


Extra Sugar, Extra Cream

by Redbonnie



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Chapters 1-4 are teen+, Chapters 5+ are mature quickly desending into explicit, Fluffy Sexy, Frotting, Humanstuck, M/M, Oral Sex, Peeping, Spoilers for Ghibili movie Grave of the Fireflies, The full yaoi, Use of puppetry, awkward confessions, but the build up is pretty fun i highly recommend reading it!, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redbonnie/pseuds/Redbonnie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a coffee shop, in a city, in an AU somewhere, manager Karkat Vantas is cornered into a date with star barista, Bro Strider.  Romcom antics ensue. A first date from its start to steamy finish.</p><p>This chapter is teen+ for language only.  It gets explicit in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a sweet n' sexy collaborative story that I loved so much I wanted to share. Karkat is played by the wonderful http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/ and you can find me, the Bro, at http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/
> 
> I'll be putting up a chapter weekly. 
> 
> I also loved it so much that I sketched it @@; http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/post/51121973844/so-heres-a-little-humanstuck-brokat-pic-my-rare
> 
> Thanks for reading!

BRO: Bro didn't hate his job, not at all, although plenty of people gave him shit for it. But, hey, the schedule was flexible, there was free coffee, and he was good at it. However, the best part of it all was without a doubt, hands down, his manager, Karkat Vantas. Jesus FUCK, he was fun to make fun of. Karkat had a fuse so short that you only needed a countdown of "one", a so chain long that girl scouts in China could yank it. And he was just. fucking. hilarious about it. Despite that, though, he was a total mother hen, keeping all his little ducks in a row, mindfully tending to the regulars and down-and-out. Adorable. And we haven't even mentioned his cute little ass yet.

BRO: He pulled on the ubiquitous green apron, and bumped his grumpy-puss manager off the register with a gratuitous shoulder squeeze--poor guy looked about to blow a vein. By the time he finished with the customer, though, she had her triple shot soy cappuccino and Bro had her number. He eyebrow-waggled her on her way and turned humming back to the machines and Karkat's glare. He tilted his head to the side, and hid a smile, waiting to see what he'd do.

KARKAT: Karkat just snorted, rolling his eyes as he started on stocktake. They'd need to make a muffin order, and a larger than usual milk order, and fuck, they were nearly out of soy. The problem with running only two staff at a time was being totally goddamn unable to pop down to the store to get stuff they ran out of. Although, TECHNICALLY now that Bro was here, his shift was TECHNICALLY done. Still, he didn't want to leave the guy on his own. The way he'd been on his own for forty-five minutes, since the morning girl had gone home sick. Sighing, he figured they'd get through at least until it was quieter, and he might chance a milk run after that. "Nice of you to show up, assbutt. Just in time to charm some poor unsuspecting girl out of her probably hello kitty print panties. If you've got time between sexually harassing the customers, the second head needs a scrub."

BRO: Huh. Just a solitary "assbutt". He disguised his one-booted clomp of disappointment as a turn of his heel to the machines, adding an ironic two-fingered salute for good measure. "Yes'm!" Paused to quite obviously and slowly slide the slip of paper into his back pocket, rumbling, "Hello, hello, kitty. Konichiwa.♫" ...To be honest is came out a little dirtier sounding than he intended, but he could roll with that. He grinned as he cleaned out that second head.

KARKAT: "Jesus. Keep it in your pants, would you? I'm not even going to ask how you know the hello fucking kitty theme. Honestly, sometimes I'm like, ninety percent certain that you're actually a preteen girl in disguise, chest bound and some kind of fake stubble on your face. Like, one of these days you'll prance into work in a miniskirt and about a third of a shirt, and be all," His voice went squeaky, and he waved around his notepad, simpering falsely, "Waa~a, Karukatu-san!" Oh, shit, a customer. "And what're you gaping at, lady? You do know we don't just pour coffee into your mouth because you let it hang open long enough, right? You gotta pay WAY more for that kind of service."

BRO: He does an internal fistpump--THAT'S what he'd been waiting for. It was going to be a good day. He mock-gasps and wide-eyes at the back of Karkat's head for the customer's benefit, fake-aghast, plays good cop to Karkat's bad, watches her walk away with a wave before replying in a low voice, "Afraid Ah'm all man, Karkat, but we might be able to do something about the miniskirt thing if you ask nice enough." He watches his favorite little mini-manager out of the corner of his eye with a tickle of anticipation in his chest.

KARKAT: As the lady walks away, offended (thank fuck, she looked like she wanted soy), Karkat turns back to Bro, trying VERY hard not to shiver at the low voice that seems to shoot right into his spine. "I swear to fucking God, Strider, if you pull your dick out I will fire you. And also kick you. Nobody wants to see your sorry, overworked excuse for a meat missile. And if you really feel the need to wear a skirt, company policy is no higher than halfway down your thighs. Gotta pretend you've got some tiny shred of decency, right?" He's very proud of himself; he only just barely glances at Bro's crotch before opening up the bean drawer, rummaging through and checking which blends they need to re-order.

BRO: That exasperated growly voice is bigger than you'd imagine from a frame like his--not that he's weak looking, by any means, he's kind of barrel-chested even, like he does montages of lung muscle training in secret in order to yell at people all day. But that voice… man, he could listen to it all night long… if the pipsqueak would give him the chance. Heh. He scratches a sideburn absently, leaning one-armed on the counter, fondly watching Karkat monologue on. He finally offers, "Aww..you wound me! Ah'm MAD decent. Karkat. Ah'm not bad. Ah'm jus' drawn that way." An aggrieved crinkle to his brow, lips tugged down, almost a pout, he tugs his cap off and on a bit, wriggling in tighter.

KARKAT: "Don't touch your face while you're working, douchecanoe. You'll get gross beard dandruff in someone's coffee, and you can't tell them it's coconut flakes every fucking time or they'll get suspicious." At the last bit, however, he snorts with laughter. "What, you wanna play patty cake? I -" He makes the mistake of turning to face Bro, and stutters to a halt. Oh, the bastard's making /that face/. He could get out of anything with /that face/. Karkat groans, and rubs his own forehead, with that peculiar double standard every cafe owner seems to have, that it doesn't count as poor food handling if you're the manager. "Oh, whatever. So long as I don't have to be Eddie Valiant. Don't think I could handle some hyperactive little shit demanding I clear his name, or whatever the fuck that movie was about."

BRO: His eyebrows raise a little. "Ah'm impressed. Didn't think kids your age actually watched good movies."

KARKAT: "..." He looks at Bro, unimpressed, coffee-stained hands going to his hips as he tucks his notepad into his apron. "Kids my age? I'm pretty sure I'm A. not a kid and B. not THAT much younger than you, dude."

BRO: He gives a short laugh...pretty sure there's a bigger age gap than Karkat’s aware of. "Ahhh! But you admit it was a good movie! Interesting. Well, seeing how we both have such good taste in cinema, you should let me take you to one, kiddo. Whuddaya say. You. Me. A tub of popcorn in my lap...?" He leans in closer as his sentences progress, smirk broadening.

KARKAT: Karkat blinks, then shakes his head, snorting. The movement is more...dismissive, than negative, though, and he brushes past Bro to grab the phone and start calling through the next day's order for dairy. Admittedly, he walks a little closer than he perhaps needs to. But hey, who's going to notice? "Hey. Yeah, biller code oh four one three. Mmhmm. For tomorrow. Forty-five full, thirty skim, and two cartons of soy. Yep. Yeah, I know, it's going fast. Fucking health nuts. Oh. ...Oh. Well, if you're lactose intolerant, why the fuck do you work for a dairy company? Yep. Okay. Eight a.m. is fine." Slamming the phone down, he turns back to Bro. "What movie?"

BRO: He doesn't flinch or take the smallest movement back at Karkat's close encounter of the shoulder-to-chest kind, takes in his backside while he's on the phone. ADORABLE. Realizes he's being talked to and wipes the goofy grin off his face and snaps his eyes up. They're behind his shades, but Karkat is a hair too clever for Bro's own good to chance it. "Huh? Movie? Whoa. You caught me off guard, there. Wait...really? Ah have a clear image of the tub Ah want to use, hadn't put too much thought into the movie. Hm..."

KARKAT: Yeah, Karkat totally catches the moment of hesitation, and the cast of Bro's shoulders makes him pretty strongly suspect what caused it. The term 'horndog' springs to mind, but Karkat can't help but flush slightly, the rush of blood to his cheeks more tangible than visible with his dark skin. "Eyes forward, asshole. Also, you're fucking disgusting. I don't want to know about your popcorn bucket plans, cunningly contrived as they may be. Just pick a movie, and let me know what time. I like romcoms, if there are any that aren't brain-meltingly trite and terrible out at the moment." And with that, he picks the phone up again, putting through the bean order.

BRO: Bro blinked, hard. He stared at Karkat’s back, in his usual comfy-looking bulky sweater, and let a little smile of wonder curl up the corners of his mouth. Karkat Vantas had just agreed to go out on a date with him. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket and began to intently search through current movie selections, distractedly servicing customers when they appeared, piecing together an evening to knock Karkat’s cute little socks off.

BRO: Or trying to anyway. The absolute SHIT selection of movies in the theaters seemed to have other, much less successful, tedious plans in mind, goddamnit. Evil Dead probably wasn't going to cut it as a romcom no matter how skillfully he spun it... Fuck. As he neared the end of the listings he paused. And his confidant smile returned. He waggled his eyebrows at Karkat without explanation and put in an online reservation for the 10PM show at the Ghibli film festival. Perfect. Those were the absolute sweetest little gems to ever leave Japan; and what a good combination--his own love of anime, plus, even if not strictly romcom, bro felt pretty certain that some of that old Miyazaki charm would put Karkat in a right cuddly mood. He'd stake his shades on it. Added bonus--he hadn't even seen this one, "Grave of the Fireflies." Something he could genuinely look forward to.

BRO: He pocketed his phone and waited for a lull in business to lean over much closer than called for and whispered low in his ear, "9:30. Ah'll pick you up here. Wear something nice, like an oversized turtleneck and jeans or something." The wink was as noticeable even if you couldn't see his eyes.

KARKAT: Karkat was doing an excellent job of ignoring his star barista's totally unprofessional behaviour, not even missing a beat when he found eyebrows waggled at him while handing off a latte to an elderly lady who didn't appear to be able to hear a word he shouted at her. He had a large jug spinning when Bro leant over to murmur in his ear, and steamed milk nearly went EVERYWHERE as he yelped in surprise. "Jeeeesus, would you fucking WARN a guy? You nearly got white frothy shit all down your front there, and not in the way you make it painfully obvious you'd consider to be the 'good' way." He scowled, pouring a couple of drinks from the almost-disastrous milk. "Anyway. Sounds like a plan, I guess. Though I'll have you know I always wear nice things. I'm a fashion goddamn diva, haven't you heard?" He in fact owned almost nothing BUT oversized turtlenecks and jeans in various colors, and strongly suspected that Bro was aware of that.

BRO: With that lovely white frothy image to sustain him, Bro cheerfully finished his shift, all extra winks and smirks. He helped with most of the cleanup and excused himself just a little early to go pull his truck around. He made a few stops on his way to the parking lot, jamming his purchases in the ample enough space behind the seats in the cab. Spur of the moment, he also decided to clean out the front a little, shaking out a used shopping bag and cramming the random trash in it and depositing it in the public bin. He even dusted off the seats and dash a little with the plethora of paper napkins that had somehow built up in there. He crammed the rest in the overflowing glove compartment and considered it a done job.

BRO: He slipped into the driver's seat and swiveled the rearview mirror towards himself and huffed. He would have preferred to at least shaved before a first date, but he figured Karkat would at least understand why he hadn't had time. He shined his shades, slicked back his eyebrows, and fixed his hair as best he could. With a sigh he promised himself to do it right...for their second date. Heh. He pulled up in front of their darkened shop, honked, and trotted around to the passenger side to hold the door open for Karkat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro and Karkat's First Date commences. Romcom continues. Popcorn is bought. Seats are chosen. Ghibili movies discussed. First contact initiated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a collaboration.  
> The Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

KARKAT: Karkat was, naturally, wearing the most shapeless of his oversized sweaters. Easier that, than trying to actually look good and failing. Or so he figured in his last-minute dash for clothes, in an illogical panic that sent him into a full five minutes of cursing his own idiocy. So, when his ride (his date, he supposed) turned up, Karkat had his fists balled halfway up his sleeves, the empty gray fabric flopping over the ends of his knuckles, hem reaching halfway to his knees. To sort of make it up to the part of himself that liked to look nice, he was wearing some rather tight, ass-hugging (not that one could see, past the sweater) dark blue jeans. He'd just lifted his hand to wave, when Bro honked, and despite himself he jumped. Scowling - what a good start! - Karkat folded his arms, shuffling over.

KARKAT: "Congratulations! You've successfully determined that your car does, in fact, have a functioning horn. I'm unspeakably proud. Really, I am. Is there any immediate family you wanna call, let 'em know about this momentous day? Really, it's fine, I can wait." Despite the snark, he slid into the passenger's seat, trying not to visibly wrinkle his nose at the state of the car interior. Hey, he could be polite. Ish. Sometimes.

BRO: "Sorry," he murmured blithely, not the least apologetic looking. "A car horn is practically a doorbell where Ah come from." He held back a chuckle at his skittish companion--he has a singular goal for the evening, and laughing at Karkat for being nervous would not help. But it was pretty darn charming, nonetheless. He shut the door after him and briefly leaned on it, looking in to see Karkat almost curl into himself in a defensive ball on the threadbare seat. He lifted his shades and winked in what he intended to be an affable manner and rapped out a one-handed rhythm on the hood of his truck as he ambled back to the other side.

BRO: "Phew. It's a little nippy tonight," he mentioned as he got back in, glad he had an extra jacket behind the seat. For now, he rubbed down the goose bumps on his bare arm and pulled out of the strip mall parking lot. He drove comfortably slumped, one arm on the steering wheel the other casually rubbing his thigh and occasionally shifting the well-worn gear stick. He made little comments about their day and flashed little grins to Karkat during the short drive into the midtown theater, hoping that he appeared normal enough and that his own nervousness wasn't showing through.

BRO: When they arrived and got a pretty reasonable parking spot, if he did say so himself, he called Karkat over to the driver's side with a little "Psst, come over here for a sec."

KARKAT: Karkat responded in short bursts of scathing sarcasm, interspersed by moments of distracted monosyllaby. The former made up the majority of the car ride, the latter coming out when he let himself stop and think about, wow, he was actually going on a date, they were going to watch a romantic movie and eat popcorn, hell, they might hold hands. The only thing missing was a soft-rock soundtrack, and presumably for one of them to be a girl, and this shit would make mainstream cinema release. There was a long silence as Karkat let himself get distracted internally ranting about inequality in gender roles in modern media, and the portrayal of homosexuality therein...then he remembered where he was, and flashed Bro a genuine, if tiny and rather rusty, apologetic grin, making a little more effort in the conversation side of things.

KARKAT: Thumping the door closed behind him, he raised a curious eyebrow at Bro, but complied, folding his hands under his arms with a shiver as he wandered around to the drivers' side. "What is it, forgot how to use your keys? Remember, the little end goes in the lock."

BRO: God! He couldn't get enough of it--Karkat’s scorching tongue left him in internal stitches, covering his mouth to hide it, even as it burned. He quirked an eyebrow and muttered, more for his own amusement than anything, "...Pretty sure Ah still know how to slot one thing into another, kiddo." In a motion smooth as a his drawl, he reached into the shopping bag behind the seat, fished out a bag of gummis, reached behind Karkat, lifted his sweater, and jammed it partway down the back of his pants. Before Karkat could work his rage up, Bro tugged him in by both shoulders and confided in a low voice, "While Ah have NOTHING against them making a buck or five at the concession stand--they just don' have the good stuff. An' Ah don' have a good hiding spot, a little too form-fitting fashion-wise. You're my partner in crime, Shouty. Keep it on the down-low." He grinned and patted the gummi pack as he started for the entrance.

KARKAT: Woah woah holy shit what. Was Bro UNDRESSING him in the PARKING LO- Oh. Karkat scrunched up his face, tugging his sweater down to cover the contraband, even as the plastic crinkled its way down his ass. "Jeeeeesus, how about next time you go and fucking warn a guy before shoving stuff down his pants? Although, fair play to you, if I'd had time to respond I probably would have torn off your arms and whacked you over the head with the soggy ends." Shoving none too gently at Bro's shoulder, he kept pace with him, wincing at the grey, shapeless blob he made in the reflection in the glass doors, wincing again at the sight of his date, visibly taller, and Karkat was pretty sure he could make out abs rippling their way through that polo shirt out of the corner of his eye. Bastard. Handsome, shapely bastard. Walking close enough that his knuckles brushed against Bro's on every second step or so, Karkat stubbornly kept his eyes forwards, nattering at length about movies he liked (or, more often, disliked), about work, god help him, about his family, anything to keep his, and hopefully Bro's, mind busy.

BRO: It was all he could do to keep his hands to himself when he saw their reflections in the automatic doors. Karkat was just so freaking adorable. A tight ball of kinetic energy, always moving, always getting something done, usually for someone else. Hell, Bro couldn't think of a time he's seen his manager relax offhand. An accidental nap maybe, but tense even then. He had gorgeous dark eyes, though--admittedly usually ringed with sleep deprivation and squinting into a scowl. More than anything, Bro wanted to see him smile...not a quick little grin but a helpless, happy, opened-mouthed, crinkle-eyed smile. ...A close second was to get Karkat's shirt off and finally get his hands what he KNEW, from endless accidentally-on-purpose bumping into his manager, not to mention their brief contact in the parking lot just now, was a tight, compact, practically solid muscle, rocking body. Not to mention whip-smart, Bro had to be on his toes around him, but without the pomp and artificially inflated ego of, say, Dave. Man...he just wanted to scoop this delicious boy up and smother him in affection.

BRO: ...But first things first. Trying to do so right now would basically be a recipe for Karkat immediate and panicked escape...this required wooing. So woo Bro would, and make do with the thrill of brushing knuckles for now. He put on his best unaffected face, winnowed his wallet out of his back pocket, and paid for the tickets at the electronic reserved tickets kiosk. He turned slightly to Karkat and mentioned matter-of-factly, "On most things Ah don't, but, in terms of paying for dates with guys, Ah have a policy. the inviTOR pays. Period. Going dutch is unromantic. If me paying bugs you, you ask me out next time. Or give me a raise. Heh. Deal?" He gave Karkat a no-nonsense, leveled look that dared him to contradict.

KARKAT: Karkat blinked at the semi-challenge. That was...unexpected. Honestly, a lot of his nervousness came from not knowing what to expect, here. The cap and polo shirt hinted at the "get 'em drunk and feel 'em up" wooing style. The whole weird anime thing pointed to "watch through their windows at night while breathing heavily". But stereotypes aside, something about the way Bro looked at him, his ill-concealed excitement when Karkat agreed on the date, the willingness to compromise, and now, NOW, the apparent worrying about being unromantic? Well, it felt like something more. Something special, and genuine, and holy shit Karkat you're overthinking things again. And standing staring like a moron. Get your shit together, Karkat.

KARKAT: "Hm? Oh." Excellent start. He kicked himself internally, and cleared his throat. "You can have a raise when you pry it from my cold, dead hands. It's a little cute that you think I have any problem whatsoever with not paying for shit, though. Anyway. Figure if I'm the main perpetrator of your heinous illegal activities, the least you can do is buy the ticket." In case 'heinous illegal activities' wasn't obvious, Karkat winked, popping a hip to the side such that the bag of gummis crinkled audibly. Then, as if to pretend he hadn't literally just winked and sashayed, if only a little, he turned on his heel, heading to the snack bar. "You gonna buy a lady a drink?"

BRO: Internally, Bro was squeeing and rolling around the floor at the unbearable cuteness of being (with Karkat). Externally, he snorted and gave a wry grin, watching Karkat make his way over to the concession stand over his shades. He shook his head and laughed, mostly at himself, jerked the tickets out of the machine the moment it seemed possible and half-jogged after his surprisingly quick little date. He drew up next to Karkat at the counter and surveyed the choices. "Anything you want, babe. It's on me. Probably." He made a little show of checking to see how much was in his wallet and amended his comments. "Any TWO things you want. On me. Ah'm getting the largest-ass bucket of popcorn and calling it dinner. Hope you don't mind tons of extra 'butter.' So, two other somethings?"

KARKAT: Babe. Just that one little syllable. One stupid fucking syllable that shouldn't make him tingle like it did; he was pretty sure Bro had called him that before. But they were on a date, and Bro was being a goddamn gentleman, and /babe/. God. Twisting his arms to lean the heels of his hands on the counter, fingers dangling over the edge towards him, he nodded at the soda machine. "Raspberry Fanta. And I'm good. Might share a little of your popcorn, but I don't eat much." He side-eyed Bro, growing increasingly bolder under the effects of adrenaline-giddiness (on a date he was on an actual date yessss), and tucked his chin down into his turtleneck, stretching out the neck a little. "That sound okay by you? I mean, if you really think you neeeeed a whole bucket all to yourself, I understand. Don't agree, but understand." An exaggerated glance to Bro's midsection, and a not-very-well-bitten-back grin.

BRO: "Heh. naw, that sounds good. Ah was kind of angling for it so we could accidentally brush hands while sharing popcorn. It's basically my whole strategy, actually," he answered breezily, scratching his neck and one-pixel grinning back. Melted butter? How about melted vital organs? He was pretty sure the tiny, quickly hidden glimpse at a Vantasian smile had just turned most of his guts into a pile of goo. Should start leaking out around his boots sometime soon. And...was Karkat being...coy? Lordy. He needed the heart of a younger man to bear all this. He ordered them both drinks, popcorn, and bag of Hershey’s Kisses "just in case," balancing the resulting tray on one hand with practiced ease and gesturing Karkat toward the theater. He stood blinking in the darkness for a moment, adjusting. "Where do you like to sit, Karkat?"

KARKAT: Squinting in the darkness (and deliberately ignoring the 'brushing hands' comment, aside from a slight flush of cheeks), Karkat furrowed his brow, surprised by the nigh-emptiness of the theatre. He supposed it was starting at nearly ten, and maybe people who liked cartoons weren't people who stayed out late? Shrugging, he took Bro's upper arm, tugging gently so as not to disturb the balance of the tray, and making for the very back row. "Prime angle of vision, this row." Plopping down right in the centre of the row, he dared a thumb running over Bro's arm briefly before he let go, reaching for his drink and shoving it into the cupholder in the armrest. "So, you know what this is even about? Or are we both flying blind here?'

BRO: In the dark, he let a slow grin cover his face. The back row. AKA, makeout row. He sniffed and shrugged nonchalantly. "Works for me," he complied simply. He took a moment settling in--his drink in the cupholder, popcorn balanced on the seat beside him, his phone tugged out of his back pocket so it wouldn't be squished, his hand on Karkat's backside to retrieve the gummis, quick and businesslike, no more lingering than Karkat’s thumb had been on him. He unfolded the seat and plopped down, one hand on the popcorn to keep it in place, the other already scrolling through his phone for the movie synopsis.

BRO: "Uh… This says 'a boy and his young sister struggle to survive after world war II'. Actually, Ah don't know much about this particular film, but this animation studio had practically redefined the meaning of the word 'heartwarming,' so it should be pretty sweet, Ah guess. You ever seen any of the Ghibli movies?"

KARKAT: Hand on his butt HAND ON HIS -- and he...didn't freak out. Just let out a slow breath, eyes FORWARD, and shuffled around a little to get more comfortable in the chair. Trying to ignore the aftereffects of the hand-to-butt contact (namely: an almost unquenchable grin, though he was trying his hardest to fight it down; a ridiculously fluttery stomach; and the distinct tactile memory), he leant over Bro, reaching for the popcorn. "Think I caught about half of Ponyo, once. Cute fish thing. Even if it had legs. Which made no sense. But hey, it was pretty."

BRO: "Heh, yeah, that's a good one. Didn't actually walk into that one with high expectations, but it was pretty good, really." When Karkat reached for the popcorn he sank back in his seat and lifted both of his arms out of the way. One came down to pick up the popcorn and bring it closer, the other landed on the seat behind Karkat. He turned his head without thinking, following Karkat's short journey across his lap and back. The popcorn ended up on the armrest between them; the arm behind Karkat briefly raising and slipping his shades off. Folding the arms against his chest, he hung them from his collar. He brought his uncovered eyes up to Karkat's, a first, and smiled a little self-consciously. "Thought you said you weren't hungry," he teases, too late, trying to cover for his momentary lack of nonchalance.

KARKAT: Oh, hey, was that a moment of unsureness? The thought made Karkat double-take, before welling up with a sort of...well, he supposed it was pride. Pride, that he could provoke that kind of reaction. It was a little hard to concentrate, though, with Bro's suddenly-revealed eyes gazing into his. God, he was even more gorgeous without the shades. How was that fair. Hell, how was that even possible? Trying to push aside thoughts of pressing his lips to those smirking ones, thoughts of those beautiful eyes boring into his, nothing but air between their bodies, thoughts of Bro's rumbling, permanently-amused voice hot and ragged against his ear...anyway, trying to suppress thoughts of THOSE THINGS (and failing miserably), Karkat leant back against the seat. Wait, no he didn't. He leant back against a rather warm arm. Okay. That was a thing. Pausing for a second, he shrugged to himself, a couple of millimetres, and shifted position a little so Bro's forearm hooked in behind his neck, leaning against him like a special sort of headrest. The kind of headrest that sends tingles all through you when you remember that it's there. "I'm not. Just fancied something a little salty on the tongue." Something about Bro, about the night, about the date, was making Karkat bold as brass.

BRO: The briefest of frowns flitted over his face. What...no tantrum? No freaking out over the forwardness of the unasked for arm flung across his seat? No semi-profane outrage?! He must be losing his touch, Bro worried. Until he realized he had an armful of content looking Karkat. He replayed this in his mind dramatically for effect: He. Had. An armful. of Karkat. And this was waaaay better than another tirade, however hilarious. He ran his practically orange eyes over Karkat's face, pale lashes flickering, slowly sitting back, giving Karkat's neck a tiny squeeze, draping his hand casually over his shoulder, and smiling into his first fistful of popcorn as the previews began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will make more sense if you are familiar with the movie they will watch: "The Grave of the Fireflies". I recommend it to anyone who enjoys Studio Ghibili, but watch out for a less than fairytale ending.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A (popcorn) bucket! Hand holding! First kiss! Fluffy sweet overload!
> 
> This is a collaboration.  
> Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

KARKAT: Karkat couldn't help but notice the regard out of the corner of his eye, and had to chew at the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot. Stupid nervous endorphins. He was totally wrong-footed, but pretty sure he didn't mind. At the squeeze, he froze up for a moment, before relaxing. Even snuggling in, just a tiny bit. Infinitesimal snuggling. He plucked out a single unit of popcorn, slipping it between his lips and chewing. "No need to get all grabby, Strider. I'm not going anywhere. You paid, I'm seeing this movie through to the end. Don't care how much you grope me."

BRO: His jaw literally dropped. His eyeballs peeled from the previews in slow motion, turning to Karkat without turning his head. He replayed what Karkat had said several times in his mind. Had he misheard? Mr. "Jesus, keep it in your pants" Vantas...handing out licenses to grope?! Nope. Pretty sure he heard right. And now there was the resulting quickened pulse to deal with; a thump thump thump in his ears, drowning out the requests to silence cell phones. He blinked and let out a slightly shaky breath as quietly as he could and dragged a knuckle up Karkat's cheek. "Careful what you wish for… Karkat," he whispered in response.

KARKAT: Honestly, Karkat hadn't really thought through that particular sentence before blurting it out, nor had he considered the possible reaction to it. So the knuckle came as a surprise. The sort of surprise that caused him to freeze stock-still, icy lightning jolting through him from the point of contact down to his toes and back. He could /hear/ his own swallow in response, and would be surprised if Bro couldn't, with how loud it sounded to Karkat. Huffing a breath out through his nose, he tried (semi-successfully) not to shiver at the whisper in his ear. "Wish? I'm not the one who's been writing about this in his pink password journal since you started working for me. All I'm saying is I want to see the goddamn movie. Don't go reading shit I'm not saying into my words. If I wanted someone to do that, I'd pay them. And the seats would be a lot more comfortable than this." As the lights went down for the start of the movie proper, he elbowed Bro in the ribs, popping another kernel or two into his mouth, before taking a long draught of raspberry soda.

BRO: "Uff," he grunts placidly at the elbow, dropping his hand back to hang over Karkat's shoulder again with a smile. His little spitfire. "Hey… How'd you know about my diary?" A light mutter and he brings up a foot to rest on the back of the empty seat in front of them, wedging the giant bucket of popcorn more firmly between them with his knee. He grazes on the popcorn, one kernel at a time, sometimes pausing and toying with a piece when there's a cute turn in the film, when the obligatory little Ghibli girl--Setsuko in this case--does something cute, or a nice feat of animation, finally popping it into his mouth with a smile. Yeah, it sucked when their mother died, but the stalwart older brother finds a way through their troubles, buoyed by his sister's plucky adorableness. Heh. Feels a little familiar, almost. What is it with absentee parents in Ghibli movies, anyway? He shakes his head at the screen.

BRO: And Karkat.... was a bigger popcorn eater then he had let on. In the corner of his field vision, he was aware of Karkat reaching into the tub again and again with steady regularity. So nonchalantly he felt a little surprised himself, he slid his hand in after Karkat's, fingertips brushing down the length of Karkat's hand, slotting in between the other man's fingers, curling in and giving it a firm squeeze, stroking the side of the hand with his thumb.

KARKAT: The opening of the film surprised him, but he was pretty sure there'd been death in other Ghibli films, surely it was all going to turn out ok. Karkat had faith. Even if this seemed really depressing so far. He was barely aware of his own hand reaching repeatedly for the popcorn, engrossed in the beautiful animation, in the sadness of the mother's funeral. Barely aware, that is, until he felt a warm hand cover his, fingers twining together. His breath hitched, his hand froze. Holy shit, that was so clichéd. It jolted right to his ridiculously romantic core, in the best possible way, and he tilted his head back slightly against Bro's arm, face turning perhaps half an inch in the direction of his date, eyes flicking to Bro's movie-lit face for a fraction of a second before returning stalwartly to the film. A tongue darted out to moisten suddenly-dry lips, and he tried to let the tension fall from his shoulders, before hesitantly returning the squeeze - even though all he could really grip were Bro's fingertips where they curled under his palm, he ran a warm, nervous thumb over the side of Bro's closest finger.

BRO: He felt his mouth fall open at that tiny movement from Karkat...just a tiny twitch of a finger, really, but suddenly there was a supernova of charged nerves in that tub of popcorn, each brush sending crackles of electricity right through his spine. It made him straighten up a little, with a short intake of breath through his nose; turn just a little towards Karkat, lean in just a little and fight the urge to kiss him right then and there. Karkat is already in a circle of his arms...Jesus, he's practically draped around Karkat's seat, when did that happen. Cheeks flushed, he dropped his gaze to their hands moving softly together, breathing a bit tight. His ears were burning, and his pulse was roaring through his ears, but he resisted, licked his lips and slowly fell back in his seat, returning his eyes to the screen.

KARKAT: Oh god oh god Bro was moving, Bro was leaning closer, and Karkat was burning up, treacherous stomach churning as he craned his neck a little further. So ready, more than ready, oh fucking hell this was the kiss, this was the mome-- oh. No, it wasn't. As Bro sat back, Karkat was horrified to find a small sound of disappointment falling from right at the top of his throat, movie ignored in favour of the much more enthralling sight of stubbled jaw, a pair of truly glorious lips, and hey, he could see the reflection of the movie in Bro's shades. That was enough for him, movie-wise; there was disappointingly little romance in this thing, he'd lost interest fairly soon after it became obvious that the main characters were kids, and it was probably a dumb kids' movie. He twisted a little in his seat, almost side-on to the screen, hand moving, brushing purposefully against Bro's amongst the popcorn.

BRO: The arm around Karkat slipped down his back a bit when Karkat turned, hand gripping reflexively onto the heavy sweater at his ribs. Unaccustomedly bared, his eyelids fluttered as he pivoted his neck toward Karkat again and met his gaze. His lips parted once, then he bit them in and wet them, eyes traveling over Karkat's face. He blinked and exhaled slowly, leaning toward Karkat, tugging the other in, until they were all but nose to nose. With a soft scratchy noise, he picked up a plump, buttery popped kernel and guided it to Karkat's lips, towing Karkat's hand with him, a twinkle in his eye.

KARKAT: Holy shit. Was Bro trying to give him an aneurysm? If so, he was well on the way to succeeding. Karkat's eyes flicked between the various gorgeous aspects of Bro's face - eyes, lips, the ridge of his nose, the swoop of his brow, the field of stubble - and as their joined hands reached his lips, he went almost cross-eyed trying to follow the movement with his gaze. A tentative tongue flicked out, brushing wetly over Bro's popcorn-salted fingers, before accepting the snack between his lips.

BRO: His lips rounded into a little pleased "o", almost unconsciously, brows raised, at the sight and sweep of Karkat's tongue. He uncurled one finger and traced Karkat's closed chewing lips, a little clumsy, still wrapped tight around Karkat's hand, a grin tugging at his own lips; melting inside, as thick and slippy and uncertain as the bottom of their popcorn tub. He lifted his chin, actually bringing their noses in contact this time, and whispered his name.

KARKAT: His hand, inside Bro's, felt almost impossibly warm. He was sure his palm was embarrassingly sweaty, and sent a silent thank you to any deity listening that Bro's hand cupped the outside of his. As his nose touched Bro's, he almost forgot how to swallow, managing to avoid choking on his popcorn with great grace. His own name echoed, heavy and thrilling, in his ears, heat rushing through him from scalp to toes and back again. A murmured "Still my name, yeah." was all he could manage of his usual acerbic sass, because it was hard to think when your stomach was turning backflips, hard to form sentences when there was a tiny localised electrical storm everywhere your skin touched skin. A slight tilt and return of his head ran the tip of his nose ever-so-lightly up and down again over Bro's, dark eyes hooded, but still focused.

BRO: He canted his head up and planted a soft kiss on the tip of Karkat's nose, to the side and kissed his cheek, bent in and covered Karkat's mouth with his own, eyes closing. He ended up wielding Karkat's hand against him to nudge his chin up into it; catching one lip then the other in his, the lightest of suckles on the lower one. He shifted even further down and kissed each knuckle of Karkat's hand, a deep, happy sound coming from deep in his throat.

KARKAT: Here was a soft gasp at the kiss to the nose, there a humming slight chuckle at the kiss to the cheek. Then warm lips pressed against his, and really Karkat let out more a sigh than anything else. Everything felt like floating, like burning up and falling sideways and turning inside out. He was disoriented in the very best of ways, trying to meet Bro's lips equally, trying not to surrender to the desire to just close his eyes and float. Well, he *did* close his eyes. Still. Each kiss to each knuckle was a glorious, tiny jolt right to Karkat's core, and he peppered the side of Bro's lowered face with soft, slow kisses from dry lips. The scritch of facial hair under his lips made him smile, unconscious and genuine, and his own sigh of happiness was rather higher than Bro's, though absolutely no less heartfelt, as his fingers flexed and tightened around Bro's.

BRO: He glanced up with a little intake of breath, eyes fixing on that smile. It was even better than he had imagined. He leaned even further in to kiss the corners of it, to nudge the little rounds of Karkat's blushing cheeks with his nose, returning his own ear to ear grin. "Keeping doing that, Karkat… Jesus...," he whispered gleefully. "Ah… shouldn't be telling you this, but Ah set myself ONE goal for the evening. Ah wanted to make you smile." He was suddenly uncomfortable in his seat, wrestling for words, eyes shining. "Damn good goal, if Ah do say so myself. Heh. But now… Ah gotta set myself a new one. Any recommendations?" he asked with a teasing lilt.

KARKAT: Well, now he's self-conscious about it. Wriggling down into his seat, he tried to bite the smile back, sure that he looked silly now that he's *thinking* about it, worried about his slightly-crooked teeth, about his eyes scrunching up weirdly, about the shape of his neck. He's convinced that his smile looks dumb, and sure enough it DOES, when he tries to practise it in the mirror, but this is a smile different altogether, excitement and joy and contentment all welling up from inside him to burst out from his face in that specially beautiful way that tells you a person has absolutely nowhere they'd rather be, and no one they'd rather be with. Still, he worried that he looks silly. And yet, the delight in Bro's tone seemed genuine, and god, that was so fucking ROMANTIC, wanting to make him smile, how did Bro keep surprising him like this? With his sweetness, his effort to impress, his goddamn old-fashioned romance that makes Karkat weak at the knees (he's glad he's sitting down). There was an increasingly large part of the little guy that just wanted to let his star barista sweep him off his feet, to swoon and smile and fall into his arms, but the rest of him is stubborn and skeptical. Why him? A guy like Bro, slight weirdness aside, could get anyone he wants, Karkat was sure of it. And he has gone for the grumpy asshole who, apparently, smiled so seldom that it's a challenge to evoke one.

KARKAT: As increasingly contradictory and concerned thoughts chased each other around Karkat's head, overthinking as always, his customary scowl started to set back in, and he tried not to look at Bro's (really unfairly gorgeous) eyes. He didn’t let the other's hand go, though, still holding tight as if to reassure himself that Bro hadn't got fed up with him and left yet. He was torn between not wanting to humiliate himself with a goofy smile, and wanting to give Bro what he wants, so after a moment he glances back over and shot his date a strained, nervous sort of grin. Oh, shit, and now he's looking at Bro's lips again, and he's sure they're darker than usual, and oh right that's because they were kissing. A moment ago. And now Karkat's slumped in his seat, feeling unbearably awkward. "Uh. None I can think of. Maybe you should make a list next time. Goals tiered by difficulty. Maybe even laminate it." He tried to keep his tone light, dragging his eyes back to the screen, hand stiff and still in Bro's.

BRO: A concerned quirk crossed his brow as Karkat minutely but plainly retreats, turtling down into his heavy sweater (He can't even remember how many times he's imagined nuzzling right into it, kissing right down his neck until his face was buried in Karkat smelling wool). Dammit. He'd gone too fast. He'd said something wrong. He'd… offended Karkat by aiming so low? Come off as insincere or childish?! Whatever it is, despite the seemingly irresistible swell of attraction between them seconds ago... Naw. Fuck that. Just take a deep breath and regroup. He was going to crack this hard little Karkat nut. Besides. There was that smile to see again. It made his knee bounce just thinking about it.

BRO: He returned Karkat's nervous smile with a short warm one, lifting a brow in slight askance, lifting the back of Karkat's hand to his lips again for a couple more kisses. He casually navigated their joined hands back to the popcorn, picked up a few pieces and brought them back to his own mouth, adding yet more kisses to Karkat's fingertips as he took them in his lips. He repeated the process to feed Karkat, snugging him back in with the arm around his shoulders and resting his bright towhead on the fluffy black---god, he is the perfect height for this, and, whoop, there go his toes curling again. He refocused back on the on the movie. Oh, the kids have shacked up in a little abandoned bomb shelter, living off the land. Cute, heh.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The saddest Ghibili movie concludes, the boys bond over the results. But where will they head next?
> 
> This is a collaboration.  
> The Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> The Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

KARKAT: That gorgeous smile that Bro sent his way helps Karkat to relax, melting a little in its warmth. And Bro kept holding his hand, kissing his fingertips in a way that brings a hint of that carefree smile back to the corners of his mouth. He was more than happy to snuggle against Bro's shoulder; comfortable being close, even more so since he was pretty sure Bro couldn’t see his face from this angle. This was...really nice, just being close, bodies and hands and heads pressed together, sharing the movie. He relaxed further as he concentrated more on the animation, though each breath and tiny movement Bro made was a distraction, reminding him of their closeness. Not a bad distraction, though, not at all. Karkat rubbed his cheek ever so slightly against Bro's shoulder, twisting his head to press a soft kiss to the seam of his polo shirt before turning his face back to the screen, where the brother is stealing food for his sister. This film was sadder than he'd expected, but still sweet. He figured some kind stranger will take pity on the pair of kids.

BRO: He was watching the movie, even enjoying the movie, but something was niggling at him, something was worrying. The father was going to get back from the war, right, just in time? Jesus, the problems just kept racking up for the poor little guys. He snugged Karkat in a little tighter to ward off the foreboding. He just formed so perfectly in the circle of his arm, their heads nested together like interlocking puzzle pieces; he kissed the top Karkat's, pausing to breathe in the scent of him… okay, so basically coffee, but something nice and spicy under that, too. And the guy was a freaking furnace--waves of warmth poured off him and it was easy to imagine falling asleep next to him.

BRO: But, even as Karkat radiates heat, Bro felt a chill down his spine, squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, pressed further and further back into it, and flat out froze when the montage of happy memories begins. He stared at the poignant vignettes in horror, because the ONLY thing that could be heralding, according to the rules of anime, the rules of Ghibli, was bitter loss. Death. But...Seita, the older brother, had done everything right, everything in his power. How could little Setsuko just... He felt a dangerous prickling in his eyes. Holy fuck. No fucking way, not now, not tonight. He didn't even have his fucking shades on. Christ. But his tear ducts were having none of that. He bit his lips together as his eyes filled, droplets suspended dangerously, one blink enough to send them tumbling....and there they went. Sweet Jesus, Seita had to burn her body himself. The sob he tried to swallow became a thick, froggish sound in his throat.

KARKAT: Karkat's stomach sunk into his lap as the movie went on. This was not cute. This was really, really depressing. It was still lovely animation, but wow, Karkat's just stared, horrified, at the screen. His hand tightened on Bro's, and a moment later he felt the other man freeze. Twisting to look up at Bro with concern, he was just in time to hear that choked sob. Oh. Oh, holy shit. Karkat's heart flopped over in his chest, and he curled up sideways into Bro's chest, one hand reaching up to trace down a tear-stained cheek as he leaned up to gently kiss a gentle line up that stubbled jaw, murmuring in his ear. "Ssh, sh, it's not done, I'm sure it'll end up ok. I'm sure." He swallowed back tears of his own, goddammit Bro, you've just about set him off. He was pretty much pressed against Bro's chest in an attempt to comfort, the arm-rest between them digging into his hip, but he paid it no mind.

BRO: Jesus Christ, no. Karkat wasn't helping, empathy now will just...but his arm hugged tighter around the other man anyway as he slid as far down in his chair as he could go, until his knees ground into the seats in front of them. Releasing Karkat's hand, he slapped his own over his head and slowly dragged his cap forward until it covers his entire face, the bill over his soon to be quivering chin. He shook his head weakly at Karkat's condolences, knowing that what has been set in motion cannot be undone, the writing was on the very nicely animated wall. However, he didn't trust his voice to explain, so he just pressed his ear to poor, unknowing Karkat and snuck a peek through teary eyes at the screen over the top of his cap, a whimper or two sneaking out. When the credits began to roll he slumped down completely, all hope lost, smushing his cap over his face with one large hand. "...Ah am...Ah am so sorry," he finally managed.

KARKAT: Wow, this was totally unexpected. And way too adorable. Karkat's heart utterly went out to Bro. He reached out gently to set the popcorn bucket aside, brushing his hand clean on his jeans, and extended his non-popcorn-y hand to run through Bro's hair. He didn't even realise there are a couple of tears running down his own cheeks, too concerned with his date. "About what? Taking me to see a gorgeous movie? Even a super sad one, you definitely get points for artistic merit. Sorry for crying like a little bitch? Not only have I seen worse, you're being unbelievably cute, you enormous moron." A slightly smaller, rather darker hand reached up over Bro's, to tug his cap down from his face, and Karkat hesitated for (to his credit) only a MOMENT before pressing a kiss to the other man's forehead.

BRO: "...Heh." He dropped his head when Karkat moved his cap. He sniffed, cheeks ruddy, pale lashes lowered and glistening with tiny beads of tears. Bro wasn’t quite sure how much Karkat knew about his home situation, although Dave came into the shop often enough, but he had no intention of turning this into even more of a self-pitying sob-fest then it already was, so he sniffed again and attempted a crooked smile, glancing up. "Naw, Ah'm sorry because my plan after this was to take you out and get you wasted and take advantage of you, but, Ah dunno...my heart's not in it anymore," he shrugged, with an eyeroll and a quirk of his lip meant to show his wasn't serious.

KARKAT: Karkat snorted, trying to ignore the various insects flitting their way around his tummy as Bro gives him that smile. God DAMMIT. Deciding to follow Bro's lead with the humour (hey, if the guy doesn't want to talk about it, he's not going to push it), he gently elbowed the other man. "Never too late, eh? What kind of date is this if you don't end up slipping something in my drink and ravishing me? I'm disappointed, dude. But hey, maybe," and here a note of careful light-heartedness betrayed the honest, sincere desire beneath, "maybe getting me wasted isn't a pre-requisite. For the taking advantage." He swallowed, withdrawing slightly to rest his head against Bro's shoulder as the theatre lights come up.

BRO: He was just rucking up his shirt to wipe his eyes when Karkat said that, and the undeniable rush of blood that the somewhat bashful invitation sent to his groin makes him mentally kick himself...the tears weren't even dry yet, for Christ’s sake. "Aaw, kiddo, you say the sweetest things." He brought the hand around Karkat's shoulders up to the back of his untamed head and pulled him into a forehead kiss, then leaned back and let out an only slightly uneven breath and shook out his cap before putting it back on. He dropped his head back until it hit the wall and considered the period ceiling, painted with constellations, thinking. "...Can Ah...show you where Ah usually go when Ah have something on my mind? Ah mean...it's nothing special. Just. The roof." He shrugged nonchalantly again and looked sideways at Karkat. He held up the gummis and waggled the unopened package. "...We could have dessert up there."

KARKAT: Blissfully unaware of Bro's blood-to-groin issues, Karkat rolled his eyes. "I'm not a kiddo. I manage a goddamn business. A teensy bit of respect isn't, I think, all that much for a guy to ask for." He undermined himself somewhat by grinning like an idiot at the forehead kiss, and by watching Bro's every move like an enamoured hawk. "...Yeah. That sounds nice. Dessert under the stars, right? So fucking romantic I might actually throw up." He didn't look, or sound, like a guy who was about to throw up. He looked and sounded like a guy who didn't even entirely realise the extent to which he's falling head over heels for someone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro and Karkat manage to make it to Bro's place, to at least the garage, in one piece, despite Bro driving one-handed. The kissing starts to get heated and the next challenge is making it upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a collaboration.  
> The Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

BRO: He tilted towards Karkat, grin growing at the acerbic response and the pretty much irresistible near-pout. Oops, scratch that. Actually irresistible. He rolled over the remaining short distance and bumped noses with Karkat, nudging him up and planting a messy pucker on his lips. Then another, with a hum and the sound of light suction. He leaned back and rocked himself up, brushing off a few errant kernels of popcorn and holding his hand out for Karkat's. "C'mon, ki...dammit. Now Ah need a new pet name for you. Karlicious. Karpet. Kar. Kat. Karkitty. Shouty. Sweetbuns. Hmmm..." He laced their fingers and sidled out of the row of seats. "Pumpkin. Sugar. Karcookie. Kit n' Karkat-Boodle." He walked backwards through the doors; they swung open when they hit his shoulders, but he only had eyes for Karkat, even as he absently dropped the almost empty tub of popcorn in the trash can. "Any of these catching your fancy?" he asks as they sauntered down the carpeted hall towards the exit, joined hands bouncing off one of their thighs, then the other.

KARKAT: Karkat almost squeaked as Bro's face draws up near again, but it dissolved into a soft sigh as those lips, those LIPS, pressed against his again. And again, oh hell, his heart was about to pummel its way out of his chest. He couldn’t help but strain for Bro's lips as they withdraw, and tried to turn the movement smoothly into rising from his seat, hand in the other's. That smile graced his face again for all of three seconds before Bro started talking again, at which point it fell into an exasperated eye roll. "No. No. Nope. No. Not a chance." His tone was light, though, a chuckle lurking in its background, and his fingers squeezed Bro's happy-nervously, thumb brushing over the other. God, he'd thought it was marvellous having Bro look at him at ALL, but now that he was looking at him like that, like Karkat was the only thing in the world, like he was gorgeous and important and like he didn’t want to look at anything else...It was all Karkat could do to keep his mind on the words falling from those marvellous lips, and not simply the movement thereof. "Those are all terrible." As his knuckles bumped against Bro's leg, he drew courage to continue. "...I didn't mind 'babe'."

BRO: He pauses, a little tickle in his chest, and squeezed Karkat's hand. "Alrighty. Babe. Sounds good to me. Babe," testing the name out. Grinning, he unlocked and held the door of the truck open for Karkat, leaning on the door frame on his forearms, watching him buckle up. "God, you're cute, Karkat. Ah jus'..." But whatever he "jus'" failed to come into focus. Instead he shifted and reached over with his closer hand to cup Karkat's cheek; stroked it, traced his jaw with a bemused smile. "Man... We should have done this ages ago. This is so much better than 'accidentally' brushing against you at work, you don't even know. baby." A wide, easy smirk now, eyes crinkled into two glittering, teasing-but-friendly arches.

KARKAT: God fucking dammit, that's unfair. Karkat pretty much couldn’t NOT grin, with that. Reluctantly releasing Bro's hand in order to climb into the truck, he fumbled the belt twice before he got it done up, distracted pretty thoroughly by being watched. And then by being called cute. Hell, was Bro fumbling for words? Cute. So goddamn cute he wanted to laugh, swear, make undignified noises. His head tilted readily into Bro's touch, and he reached over to rest a palm against the other man's chest, gently. Then, without warning, the hand turned to a somewhat urgent claw, twisting into the polo shirt and tugging it in, straining against his seat belt to press his lips to the other's. Letting go, he leaned back in his seat with a self-satisfied grin. "I agree. Although I admit, I'm not sure whether I'm looking forward to how goddamn smug you're going to be at work tomorrow."

BRO: His brow peaked in the center of his forehead, an overworked expression of havin' been wronged. He pointed a finger to the center of his chest and protested, "Babe! Me? Smug?!" He shook his head in disbelief, lips in a grim thin line--until he couldn't hold it anymore and broke it with a wink. He rapped a quick rhythm in the roof of the truck and shut the door carefully. He walked around the back of the truck to the driver's side on autopilot, hoping that Karkat couldn't tell how weak in the knees he was, how that kiss had sent his pulse spiking. How in the space of the few seconds of that kiss he had fucking SEEN himself dragging Karkat deep across the old bench-style seat of the truck cab, himself climbing in after and covering the other man, seen them humping and kissing and coming together. He gave himself a slap on each cheek as he round the rear and took a deep breath before taking his own seat behind the wheel.

KARKAT: Wow, yeah, he was /really/ enjoying 'babe'. And he was really, REALLY enjoying the reactions he was drawing from the other man, the smiles and winks and sounds. As Bro got into the car, Karkat squidged a little further in, hand going boldly to Bro's knee and fingers tracing little wiggly lines over his leg. He was pretty keen to see to what extent he could mess with the other man, the thought of driving him crazy sending a sort of thrill through him. Plus, Bro was very nice to touch. Very, very nice to touch. Unabashedly, he turned his head to watch Bro's face as he drove, free hand resting in his lap, drumming fingers against his own thigh. "Yeah. Smug. Although if anyone could get away with it, it's you. You're gorgeous enough to get away with murder, probably. Assuming the judge wasn't blind. Or, I guess, not into hunks of pure smelted sex appeal and charm. I guess that's a possibility." It's amazing what a little confidence can do.

BRO: Awwww, fuck, this had to be illegal; this had to count as driving while intoxicated, because his head is spinning and he was having a damn hard time keeping his eyes on the road. As it was, he was already driving one handed: the other had found its way to lay over the back of the seat, to play with Karkat's hair, to rub gently on his neck and feel him move, feel him turn to snark at him. And Karkat...Jesus, he'd never seen this side of him. The touches, the flattery, the out and out flirting. It was all Bro could do to laugh along helplessly, brushing off the compliments by reflex, the grin on his face more relaxed and wider each corner they turned. Somehow, even the lights were brighter than usual, and seemed to be in cahoots to get them back; they hit green light after green light as Bro wound the familiar route back home.

KARKAT: Karkat basically had no choice but to lean into the touch, he was hardly even in control of the movement. Not that he'd fight it even if he could. Bro's hand was warm, and firm, and perfect. His laughter shot right to Karkat's heart, diving into it and shaking it around, getting comfortable and making itself at home. During the thankfully short trip, Karkat kept up a fairly constant stream of conversation, turning over the combined feelings of excitement and the comfort of Bro's familiar company in his head. Meanwhile, his hand migrated absently further up Bro's thigh, only stopping once his pinky finger brushed the thick leather of his belt. Then he gave Bro's leg a squeeze, and let his hand fall still.

BRO: Pulling into the designated spot in his building's underground parking garage, he jerked the sticky shift into park gingerly to avoid elbowing Karkat, who somewhere along the way perfectly, miraculously sidled right up next to him; cuddly, chatty, almost babbling, sniping, and...freakin'... nonstop smiling. Steady warmth from Karkat's hand on his hip making a mess of his insides, Bro himself was still laughing at...anything really, everything, as he twined his arm back around Karkat's neck and, the opposite arm braced on the steering wheel, bends over the smaller man, curbing his own grin enough to kiss the corner of Karkat's.

KARKAT: Bro was even more cheerful than usual, and it made a tender sort of heat rise up in Karkat's belly to think that it's because of him. And then they're parked, the gear stick brushing against Karkat's knee as he squidges close to Bro. And then Bro's arm was around his neck. And then those lips, every time softer than he expected, are meeting the corner of his lips. And then Karkat was turning his head to meet Bro's lips, rough and needy and wanting, fingers tightening on Bro's leg and his other hand going around to curl around the side of the blond's neck, shoulders twisting sideways in the seat, facing Bro full-on. He let out a slight groan as he wriggled around on the seat, chin tilting eagerly, a slight shiver going through him.

BRO: He couldn’t even remember long it had been since his breath had been taken away like this. Color boiled up in his cheeks, rode up his neck. Pressing against the wheel, he turned further, meeting Karkat part way, gasping a little, parting his lips and tasting Karkat, finding his tongue and pushing gently at it, nostril flaring, a moan undisguised. "Baby..." he attempted and gave up with a swallow when his voice gave out, throat too tight, mind too fuzzy. With a groan, he completed the turn toward Karkat, buried both hands in his tangled, fluffy mophead, pinning him to the seat, and lost himself in the kiss for a long, hazy, slowly messier interval. With an almost whining keen, he rolled his head back finally, eyes still closed, hip rubbing up against his passenger of its own volition. "Karkat...uh… We should… Upstairs."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes the boys a chapter to make it out of the truck and up the elevator and into Bro's apartment. Viewer discretion is advised!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a collaboration.  
> The Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> The Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

KARKAT: Oh god, that moan. Karkat grunted softly in response, tingling from scalp to toes as fingers push into his hair. Oh god, that 'baby'. He mouthed Bro's name, not trusting himself to make a sound, hands rising up a little farther to hold the side of Bro's face, slip up over his hip, his waist, holding and clinging. Oh god, that keen. Karkat's eyes opened while Bro's are still closed, and he relished the opportunity to watch the other without his knowledge, the chance to simply drink in his features without feeling awkward about being watched in return. Oh, fucking god almighty, that suggestion. He wasn’t sure if he was excited to be invited inside, or frustrated at not getting to simply stay in the warm cab of the truck and kiss, and hold, and watch Bro. "I..." A lingering gaze at Bro's lips, then Karkat nodded, and opensed the door. Bro's door. He swung a leg over Bro in the cramped space, kissing him slowly as he clambered over him. Then his ass hit the horn, and he yelped, clinging to Bro's shoulders. "Holy mother of fucking sweet baby Jesus on a stick!" Then, he started...giggling, resting his forehead against Bro's for a moment before climbing the rest of the way out of the car, folding his arms against the cold. The chill in the air didn't help abate the giggles, though his teeth chatter along with them.

BRO: "mmmnph..." he followed Karkat’s transition with his lips, starting almost as hard when the horn sounds, hugging the boy in reflexively, laughing open-mouthed with him, marveling at the unfairly gorgeous dark eyes and the delightful unexpected giggle. He brushed Karkat's hair back in an uncontainable rush of movement and surges up to press their lips together as Karkat passed over him, rolling his head to watch him tumble out, fingers dragging over him, loathe to lose contact. He unbuckled and slid out after him, humming happily, pinning him once more against the side of the truck with hands on both cheeks and a brief flash of full body contact. He separated quickly, rolling the taste of Karkat in his mouth, grabbing the bag from in back of his seat and locking the truck on autopilot. He swung his free arm around Karkat's shoulders and led them toward the elevators, hips bumping together the whole way.

KARKAT: Karkat's entire world shrunk down to sheer heat as Bro pinned him against the truck, and god help him, he /whined/ as the other man pulled away. Wished he could take it back as soon as it's out of his mouth, of course, but ah well. His own arm snaked around Bro's waist as they walk, sleeves pulled down over his fingers against the cold. Once they're in the elevator, with the door safely shut, he returned the pinning favor, shoving the taller man against the wall of the small metal cube and kissing down his neck. Bro, what have you awoken? "Jesus, you're so incredibly goddamn gorgeous. Did you sell your soul? Kill a guy? C'mon, dude, what's your secret." The words were murmured, breathless, between rough kisses pressed to Bro's throat, Karkat's hands tight around the handrail behind the other man.

 

BRO: Eyebrows shooting up, he bumped into the railing and then against the wall, legs shuffling open for Karkat to fit between. "Ha ha--jus' eye of the beholder, Karkat. man… Wish you could see what AH'M beholding, babe… Heh. Freakin' gorgeous..." He trailed off with a groan and a shiver, head lolling back for Karkat's kisses; slitted, gleaming eyes watching the bobbing head. He curled his hands around Karkat's sides, and pet broad, flat strokes up and down the other man's back, twisting and rucking up the thick sweater with the strength of the movements, fingers traveling over the firm, shifting muscles there, into the valley of Karkat's spine, following the groove down to cup that long-coveted rear-end and draw them together. The low moan that escaped him is just barely this side of obscene and right in Karkat's ear.

KARKAT: There was absolutely, literally, nothing better than the sounds Bro made when Karkat touched him. Besides, possibly, the feeling of his skin under Karkat's hands and lips. That was pretty nice, too. Bro's hands travelling over his back were warm, firm, and they felt like home, felt like the best thing in the world. Then they dropped to his ass, and Karkat groaned, the sound turning to a gasp as he finds himself pulled forward, hips bumping against Bro's. And god help him, he /ground/ against the other man, fingers clutching at that polo shirt, lips sucking at warm neck, the flat of his front teeth grazing against the skin. "/God/, I could listen to my name coming out of your mouth forever. I - oh, hhHHHh..." The interruption is, of course, the moan that Bro let out, entirely derailing Karkat's train of thought, sending it careening into the nearby village containing the last few shreds of his coherence. There were no survivors.

BRO: Each squeak of shoe shifting for purchase was loud in the narrow space: each rustle of clothing, each primal sound from their throats, and, when Bro gently nuzzled Karkat's head up, even the small wet smacks of suction from their lips meeting and moving over each other. Bro kept his hands on that backside, up and down, broad and warm; feeling it move, keeping it pulled in tight, answering grind with grind, feeling the blood and tension pool in his gut. After one long kiss, he pulled back, brow furrowed, and frowns over Karkat's shoulder. He dipped his head back down to re-engage, but began to shift them in little half steps towards the door, stretching one arm out and pawing blindly at the panel, feeling out and hitting the penthouse button and jolting slightly when the elevator finally begins its ascent. He returned his hand to Karkat's elbow, rubbing gently, and laughed quietly into their next kiss. "Ah'm starting to doubt we're ever making it to the roof, babe."

KARKAT: Those hands, those goddamn /hands/ on his /ass/, Karkat could barely think. And the groin-to-groin contact, even through two pairs of jeans, was almost too hot to bear. There was a sound or two of annoyance and dissent as Bro pulled away, frowns, shuffles, but nothing too severe. Was it really fucking warm in this elevator, or was it just him? He could only barely bring himself to part his lips from Bro's long enough to answer him. "Roof? What's a roof? I'm, like, ninety percent sure that nothing exists outside this elevator. Nothing important, anyway. Job? Home? Man, fuck that shit. I've got /you/." All too soon, the elevator juddered to a halt, and Karkat grumbled, stepping back out of Bro's embrace and heading for the door that opened with a creak. Halfway there, he stopped, whirled, and went up on his toes to grab Bro's stubbly jaw between his hands, kissing him hard, before just as fast letting go (with another grin; he's just smiles galore tonight!) and turning back for the door.

BRO: He gaped, his chin following Karkat when he moved away, hands dragging off; his nostrils flare with amusement and his grin grows. He trotted after Karkat, just catching the closing elevator door and shoving it back open as he does. "Over here," he muttered, pointing over Karkat's shoulder at the last door at the end of the hall, both arms then wrapping around the shorter man's shoulders from behind, a cape of Bro. Syncing their pace, his right leg moved forward at the same time as Karkat's, then his left. It made them trip and falter, but kept them hot and flush together. Bro could not keep back the chuckle that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him; he tried to muffle it in Karkat's neck. He turned them on his heel in front of his door, leaned into Karkat against the door and nibbled down his neck as he fished out his keys; hissed lightly when the added pressure of his hand in his pocket pulled uncomfortably on the already straining fabric of the crotch of his jeans. "Babe… A little late to mention it, maybe, but Ah hope you're not a neat freak."

"CLUNK," went the first heavy lock.

KARKAT: Karkat laughed as they walk awkwardly together, holds onto Bro's forearms for balance (not just for balance, and it's obvious), snickered at the tickling feeling of Bro's chuckling against his neck. Was there any sound, any sound on this earth, more beautiful than this man's laughter? Probably not. Probably definitely not. Proba-- oh GOD, teeth. Karkat's whole body arched, from his neck, where Bro's teeth tug and tease, right down to his toes, which curled within his shoes. The sound that welled up from right in the centre of the liquid, roiling heat in his belly was a moan. He couldn’t even TRY to disguise it as anything less than a straight-up, wanton, wanting moan, eyes falling shut and weight falling backwards gently against Bro's chest. He barely registered the hiss, the jingle of keys, the words. But the CLUNK jolted him to awareness, and he responded with a terribly eloquent "hrn?"

BRO: "Mmnngh..." he groaned back into Karkat's neck, hot and dizzy with everything that was Karkat. He kept mouthing at his throat, even as he tugged hard at the key stuck in the tricky top lock. He didn’t want to admit that leaning on Karkat may be the only thing keeping him up, and so pushed him into the door with his whole body, covering the smaller man, hips doing what they would against Karkat's backside. He tried to at least muffle the sighs and other noises into the crook of his neck. Somehow, in the midst of this fog of want, almost miraculously, the last lock was undone. He latched onto the knob, twisted in, and sends them half- falling in the apartment.

BRO: The scent of..Cheetos? Of two boys living in a too small space. He was not even aware of it on a normal day. The clutter of puppets and caps and shitty weapons and sewing supplies strewn over really rather expensive electronic equipment of several varieties. Walls covered in enough "ironic" posters to put any dorm room to shame. And the futon. In the middle of the room. He tried to maneuver them toward it without letting go of Karkat, hands splayed, rubbing and tingling over that ridiculous, unnecessary, annoyingly-still-there sweater, feeling out the hard, delicious chest underneath, moving them over to his makeshift bed step by conjoined step.

KARKAT: Holy shit, holy SHIT, Karkat was letting out the most ridiculous sounds as Bro's lips work over him, as warmth and strength surround him, pressed him into the door, and hips, Jesus, those hips ground against his ass. "God...you're, I just, you..." He gasped, groaned, rear pushing unabashedly back against those insistent hips, against what he could feel in Bro's pants. God, he could FEEL it, and it was for him, and the thought sent a dizzying rush of blood to his own suddenly unbearably tight jeans. His head spun, picturing vividly a couple fewer layers of denim between them, picturing going to his knees in front of Bro, picturing riding the taller man like a goddamn bucking bronco, picturing the hot heat of two naked, sweaty, panting bodies together, picturing falling back together breathless, feet tangled together. The images chasing each other around his head, he was taken utterly by surprise as the door opens, and his arms dropped from Bro's embracing ones to pinwheel for a moment before he regained his balance, miraculously. He was only barely aware of the surroundings, though the masculine musk, that particular mix of feet and Axe, prod at his consciousness. Against all odds, he found himself enjoying it, enjoying the sense of being in Bro's space, the scent and the feel and the oh god the futon.

KARKAT: There were hands somehow all over his chest at once, he's sure of it, and he was tingling and excited and flying, he could swear his feet aren't even touching the ground if not for the feeling of them bumping against various junk on the floor. As they shuffled towards the bed (/his/ bed), Karkat tilted his head back to breath into Bro's ear. "Off, take it off, come on, fucking tear it off me, want you to, I want you."

BRO: He didn’t fully process what Karkat is saying, but just the long-imagined hot and bothered hissed whisper, reverberating in his ear, left him almost senselessly stretching forward over Karkat's shoulder into an awkwardly angled kiss, complete with helpless half-moans. Karkat bumped and was pinned by Bro's closely following hips into the back of the futon-sofa, as Bro's hands finally found their way under the hem of the blocky sweater and slipped up inside, both at the same time, both sweeping up past his belt to touch skin, to squeeze at his chest, to claim him, to keep them plastered together, even as he leaned forward and bent Karkat over the futon, kissing down the back of his neck. He wrenched the sweater up roughly, jerking it from between the press of their bodies and the couch, groaning when the wide, strong, golden expanse of Karkat's back was bared. "JESus, baby..." he stuttered, jaw working, wordless beyond that, immediately bringing a hand to the golden flesh finally exposed to him, massaging deep into the lines of muscle. The other hand was still pushing the sweater up, vaguely trying to help push it over his head, but his attention was elsewhere.

KARKAT: Returning the inelegant kiss with gusto, and possibly even more unconscious sounds, Karkat squawked as his centre of gravity disappears from under himself and he found himself pressed against couch-back, scrabbling for purchase at the cushions as he realised he's stuck, he's pinned, and the very thought sends a thrill through him. Blunt-nailed fingers claw into the poor, defenseless couch foam, accompanied by a throaty groan, as Bro's hands reached his bare skin. Tiny shocks went through him from the passes of warm hands, and he was half-tempted to check for a joy-buzzer because no WAY can that be natural, only it was, it was just his body reacting to the touch of the man behind him. /Just/ that, sure. Managing to relinquish his iron grip on the futon, he stretched up and back, yanking his sweater up and over his head, twisting underneath Bro. It was only his shoulders he can turn, with Bro's hips pinning him, but that was ok, he was pretty goddamn happy exactly where he is. Those shoulders did turn, though, they assisted in Mission: Look At Bro's Face, Just Look At It, It's So Gorgeous, Holy Shit, How Did This Happen, Kiss Him, Kiss Him More And Now. "Mmmnnh...shit, I, you're so goddamn..." Adjectives escaping him, he instead pressed his lips fervently against Bro's again, hoping that it'd get his point across.

BRO: When Karkat turned back it sealed their deepest kiss yet, Bro bending into it ravenously, plowing his hand through Karkat’s hair, pulling a handful at the back of his head firmly and twisting it just a little more, making their mouths socket together, tongues and teeth and lips the center of his universe. The increasingly rhythmic bob of their kissing heads translated down through their bodies: his other hand throbbing and digging into Karkat’s chest and still-maddeningly-clothed cock, hips pulsing harder and harder. His boots slipped with the effort of pushing in deeper, squeaking on the floor, shifting for purchase. And, oh god, they were full on humping now, kiss breaking to let them huff and pant into each other’s mouths.

He was practically lifting the younger man off the goddamn floor, he was ramming against him so hard, layered over the back of him, grunting like a Wimbledon player at each smack. The distinctive little “ka-cha” sound gave Bro about one second’s warning, he stiffened, but the damage is done, the futon had slipped its catch and with a great scraping crash the whole frame sprang wide, into one flat plane, the two men slamming down onto it, Bro over Karkat.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The futon goes down and Karkat starts blowing Bro's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a collaboration.  
> The Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> The Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

KARKAT: Karkat was dying. There's no way his heart could be thumping this hard, his head spinning this much, and leave him breathing. Indeed, he was only half-aware of continuing to suck air into his lungs, too preoccupied with important things like kissing Bro, like rutting into his hand, like rolling his hips against the hardness crushing against his ass, JEsus, he could FEEL it. He wondered what it tastes like, what it'd feel like against his own, both their hands wrapped around the pair of them. What it'd be like to have it buried deep inside him. It was an impossibility, keeping his mind on anything other than /Bro/, not that he wants to. Of course, that focus on Bro (Bro-cus?) was shaken pretty effectively when the very furniture under them literally moves. "Wh- Fuck! Hahahaholy shit, what the hell was that?" Karkat's initial, shocked response to the sudden WHUMP down to the mattress was to...giggle uncontrollably. His chest heaved at about the same rate as a moment ago, but with rather different intention. Wriggling around under the other man until he's facing up, he slung his arms around Bro's neck, tilting his head up until their foreheads knock together. Of course, giggling aside, he was still hard as a fucking ROCK, and there's no way he was not going to just...yeah, grind up against Bro, the laughter abating in favour of a soft groan.

BRO: With only that moment’s notice, there was little Bro could do besides throw his arms out and try to cushion the entirety of his weight from deadfalling directly on top of Karkat. He landed hard on his elbows, jumbling with the man below him, but at least avoided smacking heads. It knocked the wind out of him, nonetheless, along with a gruff “unf!” He coughed, shook his head, and scrambled partway up on his knees, as far as their tangled limbs allow. Crouched over him, he lay a hand on the other man’s head and patted as if checking for cracks while Karkat turns over. He opened his mouth...and was cut off by Karkat’s giggles.

He blinked, frowned, and then he drawled teasingly in answer. “Karkat…!” ending with a bright, clear, laugh. He rolled their touching foreheads together, right to left, angled down for a kiss, eyes fluttering closed when Karkat brought their groins together. With soft curses and groans, he rocked and circled into the movement, shifting to align them more comfortably. Both hands were combing through Karkat’s hair now, tugging, scratching bluntly as they twist and press together. 

After he didn’t even know how long, with flushed, wetted lips brushing, he murmured, “Ah think we should definitely do something about how still-dressed we are, no?” Karkat could probably feel his eyebrows waggle salaciously against his cheek. He pushed off slowly and came to a kneel above the other, Karkat’s thighs resting on his own. Shades and cap long gone, he lifted both arms and snagged his polo at the shoulder blades; it slipped right off with a smooth roll of his shoulders. He tossed it aside carelessly, runs a hand through his mussed hair. His eyes traveled leisurely up Karkat’s body, eventually meeting his gaze. So casually it could almost have been mistaken as just a lazy habit, he ran a hand over his own flat, toned belly and chest, thumb passing over a nipple—if it weren’t for the cheeky smirk curling his lips up and the twinkle in his eye.

KARKAT: Karkat returned the kiss, with interest. Thumb and forefinger pinched firmly at the softer hair at the back of Bro's neck, shaking slightly with need, his other gripping at the rougher fabric of the polo's collar, partly clinging for dear life, partly tugging insistently upwards. Toes curled inside his shoes, socks bunching, hips bucking upwards and thigh muscles tightening and releasing in juddering, inconsistent sequence. As Bro's lips dragged away from his, he licked his own, looking up with dark, glassy eyes at the man hovering over him. Palms brushed the sides of Bro's neck on their way to releasing his looped grip on the other, before running down Bro's chest, further creasing the shirt. The shirt which, following an almost-casual suggestion from Bro, fell from his grip as the blond drew back, rose above him. The shirt which then disappeared altogether, fabric sliding gloriously over swiftly revealed chest, and suddenly, shirt? What shirt? Was there ever a shirt? No, no, there was only Bro, Bro's fingers running through hair that Karkat suddenly wanted, needed to bury his hands in again. There werw Bro's eyes, making Karkat tremble, his groin pulsing upwards again with the desire to be closer to that magnetic gaze. There's Bro's hand moving his own goddamn chest, holy shit, he knows, he had to KNOW how that looked.

KARKAT: With a growl, Karkat lunged upwards, hooking a forearm around behind Bro's head and yanking him down for another fierce kiss. His foot dragged up Bro's calf to jam his heel in behind the man's knee, twining around and pulling closer, groaning against Bro's mouth as the hand not dragging through blond hair grabs needily at ribs, chewed nails raking over Bro's chest from spine to sternum, leaving slight lines around the side of him.

BRO: “Mmmf!” Karkat’s strength caught him off guard; he fell atop the other anew, but this time right into the kiss, lips already parted, his tongue reaching for Karkat’s. His nerves flared to life wherever Karkat touches, hot and welcome; he rolled into the rough attention and involuntarily flushed bright pink to the tips of his ears in response: he tried to communicate his ardent approval with inarticulate, throaty sounds. 

He was both unwilling and unable to move away, pinned thoroughly as he was, but he twisted as much as he could without interrupting their contact to shove his fingertips at the top of one boot, toeing at it with the other foot; awkwardly, but ultimately successfully knocking the boot to the floor and going to work on the second: that one takes his sock with it. He couldn’t resist a pleased “unf!” of triumph, climbing deeper onto the bed with Karkat in tow.

His attention returned fully to Karkat with gusto. One hand went directly to the man’s chest, grabbing a pec and clutching at the high, tight bundle of muscle, finding the nipple and giving it a solid dragging pinch. “Unnngh…..fu-hHUK, baby,” he groaned in a husky voice, slitting his eyes open to watch his fingers work. “So fuckin’ perfect, Ah….uungh.. Ah love it all. Ah love your fucking teeth. Mmmm…” He licked slowly across the crooked teeth for emphasis. “This hair…” he muttered, almost cross sounding at how charming he found it, grabbing a handful of the messy black locks and pulling; kissing down his jawline to nuzzle into it. “And, GOD, this collarbone… Why do you always hide it?! ...These fucking shoulders, too.” He ran his teeth over the one; gripped and massaged the others, titillated by the firm, well-proportioned curves under his hands down through Karkat’s biceps. 

“Guh…and THIS!” One hand slipped down to Karkat’s belly, awed jaw dropping as he squeezed into the slight but definite ring of chub there. He flat out moaned, mouth opening and closing, brow knit, breath catching as he sought for words to describe how much it turns him on. He squirmed over Karkat, sliding down him, and finally managed one, hissed, “Plushhhh…” Bending his head down, he took in a mouthful of it and worried it gently in his teeth. “…Fuck, uunnghh… Oh, hell…” With a half-whimper he pushed off of Karkat, dropping on the futon and his back, curling up at the shoulders and yanking at his own belt buckle like it’s a viper he had to get the fuck off. Then it was undone and he was worming his jeans down his hips.

KARKAT: Karkat was more than a little confused by the wriggling and grunting, totally unable to see the work Bro was doing with his shoes, but he decided whatever it was was worth it when he found himself half-crab-walking back further onto the bed. He caught the heels of his own shoes on the edge of the frame, and he didn't do them up, and thank GOD because they were gone in a blink, never to be thought of again. He squeezed Bro's leg between his own, back arching against the thin mattress as a strong hand finds his chest, rakes over his flesh, pinches at him. "Hhrrnhh, oh, fh, that...yesss, fucking CHRIST, don't you EVER dare stop..." he panted, words worked out with some difficulty from an impossibly tight chest, past a tongue that'll barely obey him His eyes scrunched tight for a moment, before blinking open, and godDAMMIT the way Bro looked at him, that's unfair.

KARKAT: "I, I don't exactly HIDE it, jeeeeesus. Got a, a, a really flattering fucking BIKINI, you should see me in the summer. 'Course, if, ohfuck, if I'm covered in goddamn fucking christ, in bruises and teethmarks, I might not be a-a-aaable to flaunt, hn, to flaunt the wondersofmybikinibodyFUCK." Well. That was...almost coherent. He was pretty pleased with the effort, considering the fact that he could barely think through blinding pleasure, the thrill of being touched and wanted and seriously, wow, Bro was really hot. Really, really hot. Christ, and the way his face slackened at Karkat's belly - did the dude seriously just whisper 'plush'? It might almost be laughable, were it not so insanely hot. He let out a hissed breath through his teeth, looking down his body at Bro tugging at his flesh, shaky fingers bunching in blond hair.

KARKAT: Then Bro was on his back, and hell, Karkat was hardly going to look a gift My Little Pony in the mouth. While the other man was working on his own pants, Karkat pushed off from the mattress, twisting to the side to lean across Bro, hand planting on the futon beside his waist, and yes, this was good. This was good, because from here Karkat could kiss eagerly down the side of Bro's neck. "Of course, least I can do is make sure YOU'RE at least as marked as me." With that, of course, teeth dragged over the crook of Bro's neck, closing in a firm bite over roped muscle, sucking and lapping at the enclosed skin with the pure intention of bringing dark blood to the surface. Then he was off again, mouth working its way down Bro's chest, rough kisses and needy nips, sucking at a nipple until it perks, flicking his tongue over it. He kept going. Keeps kissing down Bro's chest until he reached hips, reached soft springy hair, then followed the downwards movement of denim, teeth grabbing and dragging at the other man's thighs, spare hand gripping at Bro's hip for balance, and also because Karkat simply couldn’t bear the thought of NOT touching him.

BRO: Even through the heated haze of the moment, even as he was trying to snake out of his jeans, shaking first one leg, then the other, grabbing and tugging thick denim with his toes, Karkat’s monologue made him laugh out loud, turning his head to kiss Karkat’s shoulder. “Jesus fucking christ, a bikini, ahahah…Ah would pay fucking good money to see that, babe, you gotta show me somet…arnrgh…” Karkat’s weight and his teeth at his neck took away the rest of his words, along most of his coherent thought processes. His neck lolled to one side, opening to Karkat, the closer arm slowly wrapping around to hug Karkat in, to pet over Karkat’s shoulders and back. His efforts to get his jeans off were paused just at the knee, thighs limply falling wide, as Karkat steadily approached. His hips however, continued to squirm and pulse, unable to stand the suspense calmly. He watched wide-eyed and breathless, willing, PRAYing, for Karkat to do what he very desperately hoped the man is planning to do. Poorly contained in orange briefs (his lucky ones—they’d paid off again), his fully erect cock twitched and oozed in agreement.

KARKAT: Wow, it was REALLY nice, seeing this effect he had on the other man. Pride and arousal warred within him, proud of himself for managing this, and he looked up at Bro over his bare chest, paused for a moment, sprawled across him. And then ran the very tip of his tongue up the inside of Bro's thigh, drawing a sharp, shuddery breath as his nose touches orange. The musky scent was intoxicating, and the heat of the man radiated out against Karkat's already flushed face. One red-tinted cheek brushed up against the rigid bulge in Bro's underwear, and Karkat didn’t take his eyes from the other man's. Then, slowly, his head tilted to the side. Slowly, slowly, cheek becomes lips, pressing against Bro's cock through bright cotton-elastane blend. And then out came the tongue. Just a little, just for a moment, one tiny lick along the side of twitching, hard heat.

BRO: He stared back at Karkat, bewitched, holding his breath--unbeknownst to himself--as Karkat came closer and closer to actually touching him. Each brush made him gasp in a little more air, curl his shoulders up a little further. Cheek, gasp, lips, GASP. And then the tiny, soft-yet-insistent feel of tongue on him left him gapping and helpless, made him shudder, enveloped in a wave of goose bumps and electricity; muscles tensing from flexed foot, to urgently clinging arm around Karkat’s back, to buttocks clenched so tightly it hurt, nudging himself just a little closer to Karkat. “Oooohhh, baby… Yes… Please…PLEase,” he moaned, biting his lips, grimacing with want. 

With his only-slightly-trembling free hand he reached down, briefly cupped Karkat’s cheek, then turned his hand over and stroked a hand up his length, until the head nestled outlined in the V made by his thumb and forefinger. He flattened his fingers out and pulsed them, stretching the orange fabric so taut over himself it left little to the imagination, vaguely registered the slowly growing wet patch at the tip. He licked his lips, finally exhaled, eyes flicking up to Karkat as he slowly hooked his thumb under the waistband and started dragging it down. 

KARKAT: Well, that was enough to make Karkat twitch inside his own jeans. Bro's needy voice, needing HIM, bucking up towards Karkat's face. His face pressed into Bro's palm, eyes flitting closed for a moment, lips seeking those warm fingers - but they were gone, they're, oh god, they're touching exactly where Karkat wanted to be, to take and have forever. So he did. Fingers extracted from where they dig into Bro's hips, to move down, fingertips sliding under the waistband, brushing against Bro's hand and helping him tug the bright orange down. As that yearned-for cock came free, Karkat's eyes widened, and he swore under his breath. "Shiiit. It's, you're, you..." Words failed him, and he growled softly, fist bunching in Bro's underwear and yanking down. Hungrily, he lunged down, a shaky moan slipping mostly through his nose as he wasted absolutely no time in closing his lips around the head of Bro's dick. A rough tongue lapped at the slit, and it was salty, bitter, and perfect, and oh god he was moaning again, the sound deliciously muffled. That same tongue ran adoringly around the crown of the engorged cock, slipping into the crevice just behind and mapping every millimetre of almost unbearably hot skin.

BRO: “Hhoooollly fuuhhhhk….!” His head rolled back in slow motion, eyes wandering unseeing over the ceiling. Chances were somewhere in the background the fridge was still humming; chances are Dave’s keyboard tapping was just audible if you knew what to listen for. The neighbors were most likely still watching TV; water was running noisily through the pipes, the sheets were gently rustling. Chances were the light above the door was still the only one on, besides the winking little eyes of the electronics, and still casting long shadows through the room; it was probably still highlighting the wonderful curves and planes of Karkat’s gently moving back and forth shoulders. But all that might as well have been another world for Bro as he was bent over and sucked in.

There was only white hot pressure, soft and smooth and strong all at the same time. He gently scraped his fingers over the center of his universe, over the warm, bare back and into his thick, rich, shaggy mane. He himself was not aware of his hollow, shallow breathing and moans and curses and pleas; nor of the way one heel dug down to cant his hips up towards Karkat, one cheek of his ass leaving the mattress, trying mindlessly to pulse deeper into the perfect heat.

KARKAT: Back and shoulders rolled up into the touch of those fingers, another low, ragged sound welling up against Bro's cock. Karkat's eyebrows drew together in concentration, in inexpressible emotion, eyes hooded but intense as they gazed up at Bro. "Mmmng..." He was more than happy to oblige, god, he wanted this. He swallowed back the saliva pooling under his tongue, before bobbing his head down a little further. The softness of the very head of Bro's cock bumped up against his palate, and he pressed his tongue up against it. God, it has been ages since he'd done this, he was slightly worried that he'd lost the knack. Though, Bro's reactions were oh-so-encouraging. He SUCKED, cheeks hollowing as he dragged Bro's cock deeper into the firm smoothness of the back of his throat. A moment's pause, and measured breathing, ok, Karkat, you can do this, DON'T retch, that'll ruin the - no, shit, no, he couldn’t take it any deeper. The other man's dick slipped away until it rested, saliva cooling over it, against Karkat's lips. Gasping for air, Karkat coughed slightly, shoulders shaking. Then he tried again, after a swift lick over Bro's shaft. This time he didn’t attempt depth so much as movement, head bobbing back and forth, only reaching about halfway down his length, back up until only the crown was enclosed in his mouth, and again, and again.

KARKAT: He kept looking up to Bro for feedback, approval, and also just because he WANTED to, wanted to watch Bro's pleasure, the rippling and straining of muscles under taut skin, to see every gasp through parted lips.

BRO: He gave up biting his lips and trying to hold in his moans, instead letting them out as part of a babble of incomplete and blaspheme-laden encouragement. “So good, baby, so fucking good… Aaargh… Jus’ like tha… Ohh… Jesus Christ… Mmmmmgh, DAMn, Karkat…” He pulled one arm away from Karkat long enough to sweep it up behind himself, blindly pat for and find a random pillow, and wedge it under his head, eyes never leaving the sight of Karkat’s bobbing head and rhythmically hollowing cheeks. Propped up now, he relaxed into the pillow, returning his focus to his crotch. The hand returned to Karkat, brushing the dampening curls of dark hair on his forehead tenderly, the other coming up to rub distractedly at the base of Karkat’s neck. And he let himself get lost in getting taken.

It was Karkat’s constant, gentle-yet-unforgiving attention to his head that was really doing him in: the tight, steady tug-tug-tug, rub-rub-rub right THERE, at the tip of him, where every single nerve in his body seemed to gather. He had to shut his eyes and roll his head away from time to time; the bliss was so overwhelming, Karkat was too much.

However, he was watching when his hand started to fist in Karkat’s hair, pulling him just off his now spit-shiny, drippy length. He turned to lie more on his side; the swollen, dark pink head was following that mouth, upper leg hooking over Karkat’s to keep him close. He was watching, but not thinking when his hips rolled and he pressed himself back inside the other’s lips. Rolled out, pushed back in—not too deep, maybe halfway. Huffing, finding a pace, raptly watching the regular disappearing and reappearing.

KARKAT: He would do just about anything in his power to keep that stream of sound falling from Bro's lips, that praise and blasphemy, those goddamn MOANS. So, of course, he did. He kept sucking, kept murmuring wordlessly against the hot length in his mouth. It might be his favourite thing, the way Bro's head lolls back, the physical evidence of his undoing, and shit, KARKAT is DOING THAT. He was causing that beautiful loss of control, and wow, that was an incredible feeling. All that somewhat coherent thought escaped him altogether, though, as Bro yanked him aside. Cock slipping from his mouth, he gasped, groaned. "ffn...I, what's, what're you -" And his words were stopped by Bro's insistent thrust into his mouth. And Karkat lost his mind. His fingers scrabbled for purchase at Bro's hips, and his eyes scrunched shut, throaty, breathless, NEEDY moans and mewls and grunts working their way out past bruised, spit-slick lips. He was, oh god, Bro was FUCKING his MOUTH, Karkat was shuddering with want, PAINFULLY hard inside his own jeans, shit. One hand abandoned the reckless grappling for grip at Bro's flesh to reach down, thumbing open the button on his own pants, tugging the zipper down and grabbing - ow, shit, too hard. He was too turned on, too excited, to monitor his own hand tightness, but he doesn't even CARE, fingers closing eagerly around himself and jerking arrythmically.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro and Karkat can't keep their hands to themselves, which leads to awkward conversations and confessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a collaboration.  
> Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

BRO: “JEsus fuck, Kar….” His voice was full of groans and strained with effort, the effort of not slamming in too hard, not cutting completely loose…just…keep it fucking steady, asshole, he berated himself. And, good god, there were Karkat’s nails digging in; his own fingers tightened in his hair in response, keeping his head fixed. He tried with limited success to at least keep it shallow as the clip slipped away from him, hips beating in faster, his pulse through the roof, flushed fucking everywhere. A complete mess of spit and syrupy cum splattering, he practically lost it when he saw Karkat’s elbow start jerking; he made an animal sound and clapped one of his hands to his cock, squeezing hard at the base, fighting it for control.

“Baby. Baby. Karkat…” he called for the other repeatedly, with rising urgency, until his words filtered through the daze, only half aware of what his was doing himself. When Karkat’s unfocused eyes and abused, wet mouth turned slightly up to him, he stared anew and had to shake his head to break the spell they put on him. He regrouped, searched for words. “Babe. Babe. Take these off…” He rubbed his heel up and down the seam of Karkat’s jeans to clarify his meaning, toes catching and pulling on the wrinkles at the knee. “Take it all off. Take it off and get up here. Ah want my mouth on you, beautiful.”

KARKAT: Woah, what the fuck is - oh, holy GOD, that's cum. That's, it's in his mouth, he groaned, swallowed eagerly as much as he could, though a certain amount made its way onto his cheek. Yeah, ok, his face was a MESS, the saliva helpfully diluting and spreading so that his lips, cheek, and even his nose, for god's sake, glistened. He pulled back, gasping, eyes roving over Bro's face, wanting to catch every flicker of expression, every glassy-eyed gasp, to sear it into his mind to play back in slow-mo at his leisure. Rolling the taste around his mouth, Karkat licked his lips absently, before being shaken out of his own daze by foot, FOOT, foot moving over his leg, so close to- "Hhyh, yes, oh hell yes, I -" He bit his tongue, and wriggled around on his side, shoving his pants off. He was pretty sure they didn't even make it off the bed, they're hovering somewhere around their feet, but really WHO GIVES A SHIT. Now buck-naked, Karkat squirmed his way up Bro's body, planting messy, sticky kisses all over chest, neck, and jaw on his way up.

BRO: He spent the few separated moments in dropping onto his back and groaning in anguish, desperately trying to rein himself in, his balls screaming bloody murder in frustration, in a nigh crushing grip. Eyes squeezed shut, he pressed a hot cheek to the pillow. His legs rubbed and twitched feebly--in the process finally working off the last of his clinging jeans and the remaining sock. He felt Karkat move up him and reached for him with his free hand, following his progress up. When he peeled his eyes open, he found the two of them almost nose to nose, and sighed vocally and happily at the disheveled sight Karkat presents, unable to resist a strained lopsided grin. A hungry sound in his throat, a hand on the other’s back, he leaned up and licked up Karkat’s shiny cheek with a broad, strong stroke of his tongue. 

“Awww, babe.. lookit you…amazing.” He nuzzled in at an ear to murmur, then doing just as he advised, eyes gluing between them on Karkat’s bobbing arousal. His jaw gone slack, he had to suck in his lip with a little start to keep from drooling, and licked his lips unconsciously. “Uungh...” he added, when actual words fail him. He finally released himself and slid both hands down Karkat’s sides and continued down, until he had two handfuls of that perfect rump in his hands. No green apron, no fucking bulky sweater, no jeans, no nothing, just his palms and prime Vantas ass. His mouth an “o”, he squeezed, he circled, he separated, he dug in and it made his head spin. Blinking hard, he hesitantly slipped that last bit forward and dipped his fingers between those two glorious cheeks, ran his fingers up and down the cleft. “...Oh my god. Ah wanna…” He swallowed. “Ah wanna fuck you so bad, Karkat.”

KARKAT: "Christ..." Karkat breathed, watching Bro squirm, wide-eyed. The guy is totally fucking GONE, and it was so, so hot. And that GRIN...Karkat closed his eyes as Bro's tongue laved over his cheek, head tilting to the side with a groan. Every word from Bro's mouth tugged a new smile from swollen lips, and he obeyed as well, following Bro's gaze down between them, chewing at the inside of his cheek with a slight flush of awkwardness at the sight of himself, so goddamn eager. He knew embarrassment is stupid, particularly when Bro was in a FAR worse state than he is. He just...didn't know how to deal with being looked at like this. With being so aroused, so full of WANT, not just for Bro's hands and mouth and body but for his smile, his laugh, the need in his voice, the word 'babe' meant just for him. The hands at his ass were...weirdly comforting, to be honest. Like a small and intense hug, just for his buttocks. That's a stupid metaphor, and he chided himself for it even inside his own head.

KARKAT: He gasped as fingers press between his cheeks, gasped for the intrusion, gasped for the hesitance in the movement, and MOANED for the words that accompany it. Hips rolled forwards, and Karkat stammered for words, eyes wide and focused in on the tiny point of space that is Bro's irises. His hands reached up, shaking with arousal, one cupping Bro's neck and the other grabbing at blonde hair. "I...fucking HELL, do you even, christ, even know what saying that does to a person?" The words worked out between desperate, strained pants, and Karkat kissed Bro hard. And again, god, he just couldn’t STOP. So many kisses, each more needy than the last. "Want, mmnh, want you so goddamn bad, want you inside me, wanna be so fucking FULL of you, love, want you just, just making me WHOLE...god, I feel like I need you in order to breathe, like my heart's going to goddamn STOP without you." He was pretty sure he'd never said anything so corny, but the words felt perfect falling from his lips.

BRO: “Unggh… baby…” He was overwhelmed, too much happening at once. He listened, let out a few chuckles, but filed the words away for later when he has the brainpower to sort them out. That tone was what really did him in, though—that familiar nagging, stressed out annoyance… laced this time with need and hunger and affection. It made his guts roil and he kissed and kissed until he just can’t fucking stand it and curled up, burying his face in the crook of Karkat’s neck, groaning--curled up full body as much as he could around this precious, trembling bundle of wriggling Karkat in his arms. He flattened his lips to him, wherever he can, smearing over Karkat’s neck and shoulders and scalp and murmuring, encouraging, adoring. His hands moved everywhere, wide and stroking and slowly coming to center on the smaller man’s hips; he gripped into the slight pudge, wielding Karkat into him, up and down, feeling the man’s cock hard and wet against his belly, meanwhile rocking himself up through Karkat’s legs, knocking against that perfect ass.

KARKAT: That was adorable. That was all Karkat could think, as Bro folded him up in his arms, his body. As those glorious hands left his ass, he whined in discontent, even though they felt AMAZING wherever they were. Oh, particularly at his hips. Particularly dragging him up and down, holy shit, he gripped Bro's hair, grabbed hold of his shoulder for purchase, grunting as he feels the flesh of Bro's belly sliding over his cock, it was good, it was so good, it was nowhere NEAR enough. And god DAMN, that was Bro's cock against his ass. His hips rolled of their own accord, in addition to Bro's insistent pulling, one leg rising, twisting to wrap around the other's waist, the movement angling his hips to fit closer against the taller man's, while giving his own cock a little breathing space.

BRO: Grunting, welcoming the added contact, he arched his back to let Karkat’s foot under, leaning them to one side to accommodate it. His hands shifted as Karkat moved, one sliding down to his ass to keep them pinned together as they pivot. He cupped the hand, right over the cleft, making a loose channel. Panting, open-mouthed, eyes on Karkat, he shakily guides himself into it, works his hips, humping up into it, seeing white at the first stroke. “Fuuuuhhhh…” he gurgled, biting his lip, drawing out and smacking in again. Slow slides out and repeated and repeated, increasing the pressure of his palm. Good as it felt, though, the flesh of Karkat’s cheeks resisted, giving little, dragging at his most tender places…uuunghh… And it is too fucking tight, too dry, the little leak of pre-cum not nearly enough. God…would a self-lubricating guy too much to ask for?! With something close to a whimper, he withdrew, twisted under Karkat and slowly tipped them over, brought them side by side and—hissing--cock to cock. Maintaining all the contact he could, he rocked them full body, rubbing, kissing, sucking. He was sure...he MADE sure that he’s leaving marks, as he reached between them with his still gloved hand.

KARKAT: Wow, oh, /wow/. Karkat panted, hips jerking inexpertly forwards, grinding down against the feeling of the hard heat moving, thrusting, held against him by Bro's cupped hand. He whined, attacking Bro's jaw and neck with messy kisses, clinging to the other man. He was hardly able to control his own movements, and he'd given up on regulating his breathing, or the sounds he was making, altogether. "Please, p-hhhh-lease, Bro, my Bro..." Leg twining around the outside of Bro's, he lunged down between them, gripping the other man's wrist loosely, pinky finger just brushing the dark leather. Then his looped fingers ran up over Bro's forearm, before tightening, rubbing back down to his wrist, holding it firmly and tugging it down to right exactly where he wanted it, where he yearned for the feeling of Bro, of fingers encasing him, of more of that amazing cock (he can still taste it at the back of his throat, and the realisation made him groan) against his own, of MORE MORE MORE.

As his hand corralled them together, his suckling gradually de-escalated to little more than panting hard, marking now forgotten, nose buried deep between the pillow and the crook of Karkat’s neck. His grip was firm on them, working their shafts, flicking a thumb over the tops. First finding a rhythm with Karkat’s hips, his own then joined in with a steadying pulsepulsepulse, brushing and nudging them together with growing insistence. Already, he was moaning jerkily, seeing flashes of white. And then with a sharp turn of his wrist, he swept up over the engorged heads of their cocks, compressed them, milked them, slipped all the way down and up again, and again. Pressure and heat and speed intensifying, he huffed against the swell of flesh at Karkat’s neck, dragged his teeth there, swearing nonsensically, “Oh, fuck, Jesus fuck, hoooh, goddamn, mother fuck, mmmgh… baby…babe… Ah…Ah can’t….”

KARKAT: It would be absolute lowest fallacy to say that Karkat was handling the situation well. No, he was squirming, he wa letting out the most ridiculous breathless mewling sounds, he was gripping onto Bro's wrist like a lifeline right up until he's not. And the reason he was not holding Bro's wrist any more, was that his hand was joining the other, upping the speed, moving jerkily for perhaps four strokes before it was too much. It was all too much, the increased speed and pressure undoing him. His back arched, shoulders pressing back away from Bro, hips snapping forward a final couple of times before holding, tense, all of him tense, chest and legs and arms and god, he's not even breathing, eyes screwed shut as ropes of white jettisoned from his overwhelmed cock. It was all over their hands, sticky between their bellies, but Karkat didn’t notice, didn’t care, collapsing, drawing a deep, quick breath only to exhale it as somewhere between a groan and a whine, body curling forwards now, sweaty forehead pressing against Bro's shoulder.

“Aaaw, fuck, oh yeah. oh… c’mooon baby, HOlyy…!” And suddenly it was all much more slick and smooth down there, his hand flew over them, wet and smacking up down, up down-- because Karkat just CAME all over their hands and the sounds he made and the tense, desperate scrabbling was just too goddamn perfect. He leaned heavily into Karkat, abusing his own poor dick a little more, hips swinging fast, fucking his hand, grunting primal and hard, until he spread his seed on the other’s belly, mixing it with Karkat’s. His hand slowed, making a couple of last, flagging strokes as he gasped out his ecstasy into the corner of his jaw.

KARKAT: All Karkat could really do at this stage was whine some more, gasping for breath, fingers digging deep into Bro's flesh. He was shaking, shuddering, and when he tried to talk all he can manage is a breathy, "...god..."

BRO: He slowly, creakily, rolled onto his back, head lolling on the shared pillow and knocking into Karkat’s gently. One arm was pinned under the other man, and almost without thinking about it, it bent up to drape over Karkat’s shoulders and finger lightly at his tousled hair. He stayed like that for a long moment or two: one lax thigh caught between Karkat’s legs, the other knee propped up but swaying slightly with the pleasure and aftershocks moving in waves through his limbs. Head spinning, replaying unbidden snapshots of the experience; breath hitching but gradually calming. He finally sighed, “Holy shit, Kar…” He reached up to rub his hand over his face but stops just before it makes contact and chuckles. His hand and glove were covered in the fruits of their efforts. He flexed his fingers and smiled at the shiny, drippy mess and let his hand fall palm up back on the bed, unable to tend to it right now.

“That...was amazing, babe. And totally did not go as planned,” a chagrined half-laugh.

KARKAT: Karkat followed suit, flopping onto his back, attempting to regain some semblance of conscious thought, of regular breathing. The occasional glorious tenseness swept through his spine, accompanied by a sigh or a grunt, and his eyes gaze, unfocused, at the ceiling. As Bro calmed, so does he, limbs loose and limp against the sheets. As the goopy mess over his belly cooled, he grimaced, glancing from side to side in vague hopes of kleenex or something. "Mmn...yeah. Fuckin' amazing. Sounds, yeah, sounds about right." The grimace softened to a smile, his head lolling back over to face Bro, nose brushing his cheek. "Can't say I give two shits about whatever the fuck you had planned, if it wasn't that. Because that...shit. That was *perfect*."

“…It kind of was, wasn’t it,” he murmured, a smile in his voice, angling his cheek into Karkat, a sideways nuzzle. He enjoyed the spell of quiet, the glow and thrum of the perfect moment. Then, with a sigh, he grunted and stretched and fumbled for his shirt, caught just barely dangling on the arm of the futon; he grabbed the plastic bag he’d been toting all night, as well, before retracting back into his place by Karkat. He wiped his hand off leisurely, swiping between each finger; unsnapped the glove, peels it off and sends it flying. Finally he reversed the shirt and turned to Karkat, sweeping it slowly up his belly, getting into the nooks and crannies and nuzzling in to rumble in his ear.

“My plan…my FIRST plan, Ah should say, was to take you up to the overlook. Do a little stargazing. Get you a little drunk with this mediocre bottle of wine here, loosen you up. It’d be all chilly and you’d cuddle in for warmth, which I would then take advantage of.” With a lazy flick of his wrist he sent the soiled polo over the side of the bed, picked up the bottle of wine and set it between them. “Things have gone a little topsy-turvy, but…thirsty?”

KARKAT: "Mmhmm." He stretched his arms over his head, giving up on giving a fuck and wiping his hand on the side of the futon, before folding his arms under the back of his neck. "You really thought you'd have to get me drunk? I'm not sure if I'm flattered or insulted." He was almost fidgety, now. Not in a bad way. Just, he got all comfortable and then realised that he's not touching his bedmate as much as he could be. So he unfolded his arms, shifting up until he's sitting, more or less. He was leaning on one hand, the other reaching over to brush the backs of his fingers over Bro's upper arm. "Don't suppose you've got a couple of glasses, you incorrigible romantic, you? I mean, nothing says 'date of the century' like drinking admittedly mediocre wine straight from the bottle."

Under the relaxed touches and snarky remarks, he chortled and unfurled like a sated cat: head back on the pillow, a Cheshire grin, one hand balancing the unopened and still bagged wine on his stomach, the other curling through Karkat’s braced arm to stroke on the bared skin of his back. He frowned at the request, though, craning his head way back to look at the coffee table—nope, only crushed beer cans and empty juice boxes. He cast his eyes dramatically and slowly towards the kitchen and exhaled loudly. “Jesus, if Ah’d known you were such high maintenance…” His put-upon tone was softened by the press of a warm hand flattened to the small of Karkat’s back, the suggestion of a hug.

Propping up on one elbow and with another over-wrought sigh, he fished the previously-smuggled pack of gummies out of the shopping bag and wrangled it open with his teeth. He winnowed out a couple of orange ones and chewed them noisily, all while glaring balefully the kitchen for being so far away. With a near-pout and a quick peck on Karkat’s nose, he scooted himself to the edge of the futon and reluctantly stood, tousling his hair.

The shopping bag, meanwhile, topples over and spilled out the remainder of its contents—the wine, an unmistakable palm-sized box of condoms and a suspicious tube. Bro padded naked and unawares to the cabinet.

KARKAT: Karkat had absolutely no idea how the hell a smoking hot guy like Bro managed to be...cute. Fucking /cute/, what the hell? But no, he was laughing, grinning, moving slowly and distractedly, and all Karkat wanted to do was wrap arms around him and never let go. But he didn't. Because he ALSO wanted a glass. The opportunity to watch a fine, buck-naked ass sauntering away from him didn't go amiss, either. The nose-peck got a quick, darting kiss to a stubbled cheek, and a grin, and Karkat nabbed the bag of gummies from Bro, shoving about three of different colours between his lips, gnawing on them with perhaps a LITTLE more decorum.

KARKAT: The rustle of plastic drew his attention, and he glanced over. Got distracted by Bro's ass, again. Wow. What a nice - hang on, what. The sight of the bag's contents, after perhaps a ten second period knocking politely at the door to his conscious consideration, finally managed its way past the doormat. Slowly, his head turned back to the bag, and he picked up the small box in one hand, the tube in the other. Well. Looks like /someone/ had high plans for the evening. "Guess you weren't kidding about that getting me drunk and taking advantage of me thing, huh?" His tone was light, teasing, but with a faint note of...uncertainty? Concern? Whatever it was, it was keeping Karkat's gaze fixed on Bro's shoulder, no higher, no lower, as he rolled the tube back and forth between finger and thumb.

BRO: “Hmm?” he hummed mildly, turning around from rummaging through the cupboards with two mismatched glasses and a wine opener stacked in one hand. Karkat’s averted eyes made his head tilt to the side; his eyes dropped to what Karkat was holding and his stomach twitched with a single silent chortle. He caught a roll of paper towels off the counter as he moseyed back to the futon, taking his sweet nude time, leaning over and flicking the stereo on low, tossing the paper towels to one side of the futon. He passed the glasses to Karkat with a wry smile and drawled low and candidly while picking up the wine, “Babe... Ah have never lied to you that Ah can think of. Obfuscate and misdirect, sure. Plenty. But about that--no, Ah wasn’t joking about saying Ah have planned all along to do my damnest to get you in bed. So, yeah. Ah thought Ah’d cover my bases. Never took it for granted, Ah swear. Just…Ah’m the kind of guy who likes to err on the side of hope, Ah guess. And if we’re being honest...Ah’m perhaps still a little hopeful?” He lifted his eyes to Karkat as the cork pops out. He lips were quirked just slightly and he held a hand out for the first glass.

KARKAT: He chuckled, but it was a little uncomfortable. As attractive as the thought of being hoped for and lusted after was, and as much as his logical mind said that Bro was just covering his bases, he couldn’t shake the implied assumption that he'd...well, do exactly what he did. Shit. Was he easy? Had he...'given it up' too fast? Dammit. First fucking date, and he's gone and...christ, what was he thinking? He glanced at Bro, a sidelong look under his even-more-untamed-than-usual mop of hair. Oh, right. He'd been blinded by abs. And surprising tenderness. And...yeah, ok, he /still/ wanted Bro pretty fucking badly, even spent as he is. He's young.

KARKAT: Letting a slow breath out through his teeth, he tried to compose his thoughts. Bro was his best employee. Bro was insanely attractive. Bro actually cried in that movie, he was definitely not without emotion or empathy. And then Karkat realised what he's worrying about, really - he didn't know where this is going. Hell, he didn't know where he wanted it to. He knew that he'd just had the hottest futon-related experience in his accessible memory. And he knew that Bro calling him 'babe' gives him tingles like nothing else. What he didn't know is... "Is this a one-night thing?" he blurted, eyes fixed on the glass he was holding out for Bro to fill.

BRO: His smile faltered just slightly as his shins bumped against the futon frame. He pressed his lips together in a line, eyes flicking away in lieu of shades. Dammit, why hadn’t he seen this coming? He lifted his knees up, first one than the other, and knelt on the futon, spread wide and all but rubbing against Karkat. He steadied the glass with a warm grip on Karkat’s wrist while he poured, thinking. He licked his lips and finally met his eyes, saying, “Babe… uh… Ah don’t know.” He took the other glass for himself. “That’s…” he trailed off and shrugged. 

BRO: “Ah guess, Ah DO know… that Ah make sure to get myself scheduled when Ah know you are on. that you make me laugh like no one else does.” His momentary bluster faded, his eyes lowered again as he set the bottle aside and more softly added, “An’…making you smile is probably the best thing Ah’ve done all year. And Ah’d like to try to do it again. If you didn’t mind.” He half-squinted up at Karkat, slightly braced, slightly pleading.

KARKAT: Karkat's head dropped a little further as Bro's knee presses against him, and he shifted his weight a little. Swallowing, he lifted his gaze to meet Bro's, not terribly heartened by the first few stammering words. As Bro went on, though, sweeter words slowly rolling off his tongue, Karkat wasn't sure whether to relax or tense up. What Bro was saying...it was basically exactly what he wanted to hear. Which sent shivers through him. But also made him worry - was it too perfect? Was it calculated, planned to a T, with no intentions of follow-up? Bro has given every impression of being genuine, and he felt both dumb and uncharitable for worrying, but he couldn’t help it.

KARKAT: And then there was that pleading look, and goddammit he just MELTED. Nodding, he brought his glass up to his lips, forefinger tapping a nervous rhythm against the rim. "I'd really fucking like that," he muttered into the sloshing liquid.

BRO: He considers Karkat quietly with a tilted head, slowly shifting to cross his legs between them, one knee just pressing to Karkat’s leg, angling in to tap their juice glasses together. “deal, then. two, three nights minimum,” he baits with a lop-sided grin, leaning back on one arm and taking his first swallow of wine. “if ah can’t keep you smiling, you can call the whole thing off any time. sound fair?”

BRO: He mulled, sucking on a tooth and sipping his wine, before handing it to Karkat and bending over to sweep an arm under the bed and pat around until he caught hold of what he was looking for. He straightened back up and rather tenderly nestled Li’l Cal onto the crook of one bare thigh, working his hand inside the back. “What’s that, little buddy?” He held a hand between his mouth and his puppet to whisper conspiratorially to Karkat, “This is my little buddy, Cal. He’s kind of a dummy.” He did a quick stretch of his throat, patting it and swallowing few times.

“Who are you calling dummy, asshole?!” came from the somewhat malignant manikin.

“Wa…? Naw, dude, Ah said you have a sore tummy,” he rejoined sincerely.

The puppet muttered darkly and looked suspiciously between the two men. Bro leaned just out of Cal’s view and communicated through one handed gesture that Cal was indeed rather thick, and perhaps a little cuckoo.

A noodle-y arm sprawled towards Karkat. “What’s eating this guy? He looks about as happy as a turkey on Thanksgiving Eve.”

“Hey, don’t be rude, Cal! This is my new..uh..boyfriend, Ah guess.” He glanced up briefly from focusing on Cal to meet Karkat’s eyes, a question in his.

“Oh. well, that explains the long face. Ha!” The puppet’s eyes closed and he shook bodily with snickering.

“Cal! Jesus Christ, you could /try/ to get my back on this one. You’re the worst wingman ever,” Bro protested.

“Man, I’m doing him a favor. Nice fresh meat like him doesn’t belong with an old horn dog like you. Fly, little man! While you still can!” Limp limbs flailed towards Karkat.

“Na... now, stop. That’s hardly fair. Yeah, Ah know Ah talk a big talk and, hell, Ah enjoy a good flirt, but when’s the last time Ah actually brought someone home?”

The puppet flopped back to sneer up at Bro. “…Can’t even remember. God, you’re such a loser. Not that you really could. I mean, Jesus, look at this hellhole.”

Bro sighed exasperatedly. “You’re the one home all day, you could pick up once in a while, you know, instead of just sitting around like a lump on a log.

Cal’s jaw falls open as he cackled. “Dude, cleaning is for bitches! …So I guess this place is never gonna get cleaned, ‘cause we /both/ know you’re never gonna be bringing a chick home.” 

Bro rolled his eyes and shot Karkat an apologetic look as the lank doll in his lap continued laughing at his own joke.

KARKAT: He managed a nod, and a faint but reassuring grin, before returning to sip at his wine. As Bro fumbled around under the bed, he tried to organise his thoughts, and he had just about got them ready to say out loud when Bro sat back up. "What the f-" But he was talking, and the PUPPET was talking, and Karkat stared dumbly for a long moment. Slowly, though, he started snorting at each pantomime line, knocking back the wine a little more enthusiastically. At "boyfriend", Karkat hesitated, then gave a firm nod. Along with a firm middle finger to Cal.

KARKAT: Tossing the last of his wine down his throat, Karkat let the empty glass dangle precariously from his fingers as he pressed closer to Bro, covering Cal's face with his free hand as he gave the blond man a big ol' smoocharoo on the stubbly cheek. "You're such a fucking moron. Honestly. A puppet? You've gotta be kidding. If that's your pick-up technique, I'm not surprised if you can't remember last time you had someone over." Oh, that might've been a bit too mean. Backpedal! "Anyway, it'd better be a while before there's anyone else, too. I intend to take up as much of your time and space as humanly possible." And his lips were moving, from Bro's cheek down the side of his neck, hand still covering poor Cal's eyes.

BRO: Cal squawked out muffled protests and struggled under Karkat's hand, while Bro rather unceremoniously flapped his arm to get the puppet off, sending it sprawling off. His left arm was already around the other man's shoulders, petting, pulling him in--anything to increase contact. A chortling grin bubbled up from inside, fueled by relief and delight: his wonderful bundle of snarky, witty, humorous, insecure, adorable Karkat. His. In his arms. "Good. Perfect. You freakin' better." He sighed contentedly and rolled his neck open to the attention, strong hands stroking the length of Karkat's back, rubbing at his neck and then through his thick tousled hair. He lowered his mouth to the tangles as well--nuzzling, kissing, murmuring sing-songy sweet nothings into it as he let them tumble back, one leg hitching up over Karkat to hug him in that much closer. Both hands wove their way into his hair and pulled him into a long, slow kiss.

KARKAT: What a fantastic laugh. Karkat couldn’t help but grin in response, and he wriggled in Bro's embrace until he was straddling the other, enjoying the warmth of that naked body against his. He had his elbows at Bro's chest, forearms flat up to his shoulders, fingers curled over the bend where Bro's neck became his shoulders. His really, really nice shoulders. Perhaps an odd thing to notice, but Karkat was sort of noticing everything about the other man, finding a different thing to be impressed by with every breath. His knees squeezed tight around Bro's sides, and he's got his eyes closed as he returned the sweet, languorous kiss, thumbs dipping to brush the edges of Bro's collarbone.

BRO: Maybe it was the wine on a near empty stomach, or the lingering euphoria from earlier, but for whatever reason, his head was at once misty and brilliantly alive. All of his focus was on the points of contact between himself and his beau--his hands sliding over the shifting body in his arms, Karkat's exploring, tender fingers, their twined tongues and the shared sounds. He rocked them carelessly, lifted and dropped his legs under Karkat and felt the skin of their thighs kiss and rub. "My baby..." he whispered into his lips, not holding back an accompanying cheeky grin and following with scrubbing his stubbly cheek to Karkat's.

BRO: Pressed so close that his lashes brush on the blushing skin there, he breathed unevenly, and watched the puffs of air made the soft hairs around Karkat's ear flutter. His arms tightened around him and struggled for words. "Karkat… Ah...can Ah..." he floundered.

KARKAT: Between, and during, kisses, Karkat continued to explore the expanses of Bro's chest, neck and arms with fingertips and lightly brushing palms, grinning like a fool every time Bro spoke. His baby. Yeah. That's pretty nice. A just-barely-breathed "Yeah, yours." in response was practically swallowed by the kiss that follows it, firm and confident. Bracing his hands on Bro's shoulders, he pushed just far enough away to catch Bro's whole face in his field of vision. "Can you what? I gotta admit, there's not a lot I can think that I'd refuse, when you're looking up at me like that. You must be a totally unfair advantage on a debate team." He grinned

BRO: Chances are his apparently advantageous 'look' right now was flushed and disheveled, unfocused affection, but hell. Whatever it took to win the debate, right. Head cocked and angled to also take in Karkat’s expression, he grinned back a little loopily, more aware of Karkat’s warm tone than exact words--those took a while to filter in, and by the time they did his hands have already wandered from petting Karkat’s neck and shoulders to a double hold on his perfect bubble ass. They kneaded into the springy flesh, spreading and circling. Tilting his chin to its limit, he kissed Karkat’s knuckles on his shoulder. He tongue flicked over his lips and his eyes blinked down between them. “…Ah really do want you in my mouth, Kar. Move up?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter--will Bro and Karkat consummate their burgeoning relationship??? Smart money says yes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a collaboration.  
> The Bro paragraphs by myself, http://redbonniegirl.tumblr.com/  
> Karkat paragraphs by http://ablubluh.tumblr.com/

KARKAT: He was reaching his melting point, practically a puddle of happy, warm, satisfied ooze in Bro's grip. Hell, he was relaxed enough to be letting out a whole symphony of sighs and murmurs in response to every touch. And then there was Bro, speaking again. What was he saying? Karkat got distracted watching those lips move, and it took a second or two to - oh. He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing. Then he nodded. "How's a guy supposed to say no to something like that? I mean, hell, I'm hardly one to deny you what you're asking for. I think this is a favor I can do for you." With a cockiness that didn't go all the way through, he winked down at Bro, before shuffling awkwardly up to straddle his shoulders. This felt...odd. Powerful and vulnerable all at once. Knees planted on either side of Bro, Karkat braced one hand against the futon, the only thing keeping him from altogether being on all fours is the hand that shakily runs through Bro's hair. He was pretty much unsurprised that his cock is already on the rise again. It was not exactly what you'd call a raging hard-on, but it sure ain't flaccid. "Uh, just lemme know what to, erm."

BRO: “…Aaaaanything you wanna do, baby,” he murmured distractedly, more intent on craning his head back to follow the climb up, rolling his neck to keep their eyes locked. His hands gripped and moved roundly, possessively over Karkat’s flank, over and over the bump from butt to thigh. When Karkat’s half-hard cock bounced off his cheek, he finally lolled his jaw open, wide and lax; started like a cat and grinned afresh when it hit his nose, and then slurping it in, lips form-fitting around the ridge of the swelling head, humming and suckling on it like a mother’s teat, tongue digging up from below. As the two of them shifted, finding their places, he inched up higher, testing his limited range, felt his nose press into the curve of Karkat’s little belly as he takes him wholly in.

KARKAT: That was almost overwhelming, just the sight of his (his brain, absurdly, filled in the word 'manhood' - too many romance novels, he scoffed internally) juxtaposed against Bro's face. His lips parted in a silent 'wow', and his fingers bunched in Bro's hair as he bumped against that gorgeous nose, too. As lips closed around his cock, Karkat's whole body curled over a little with a strained, breathy 'hknhh!' and a shiver. His eyes fell half-lidded as he watched Bro work his magic. "Fuckety hell, you're gorgeous." He was dimly aware that he just used the phrase 'fuckety hell' but really, there were more important things, like expressing to Bro EXACTLY what was going through his mind.

KARKAT: "So goddamn gorgeous, 'specially with my cock in you, holy shit. You look, gnnh, look SO fucking good down there, dude. Chri-i-ist." He leaned further forwards, pressing now more down than forwards into Bro's mouth, and his fingers tug unintentionally at that lovely blond hair, a ragged breath fighting its way out between his teeth as his cock swelled and pulsed to the elevated rhythm of his pulse, working its way to full hardness with alacrity. "Could just watch you do that all day. So, so good. Should maybe just, just keep you on your knees behind the counter at work. It'd sure distract from the shitty customers." He gasps out a laugh, though it's undercut by another groan as he rocks his hips slightly forward into the warmth of Bro's mouth.

BRO: As long as he could, he kept as much as he can of Karkat in his mouth, down to the curly dark hair, but as it grew he was forced to back off little by little, until he bobbed up over little more than half of the fully stiffened cock, thumping softly on the pillow on each down stroke. He hummed with pleasure, reveling in the thick heavy stretch of the meat filling his mouth, hands pinching and encouraging the rocking of Karkat's hips, one slipping down to curl around the base of the cock, thumbing at the vein on the underside. 

BRO: It started with a huff or two, and as Karkat’s babbling monologue rambled on, he had to fight a grin to keep sucking, but the laughter shook his shoulders and resulted in a spat of undignified nasal snorting. He pulled off, coughed, kissed the inside of Karkat’s thigh, and panted up at him. “…Ah’m afraid Ah’d really have to demand a raise in that case, Mr. Vantas,” he warned, the wet and shiny corners of his lips turned up and fingers still kneading tight around him.

BRO: Eye bright, he held Karkat’s gaze as he patted out with his other hand for the tube of lube. He fumbled it upright in his grip and popped the cap open with his thumb without looking. He basked in Karkat’s attention, face softening--even as his fist squeezed indiscriminately, making a mess, but catching up most of the spilling gel. He licked his lips, ran his teeth over them, then lowered his jaw and extended his tongue with a naughty wink, angling back down to inhale the trembling cock again. And, slick and cool, the second hand returned to swipe a glistening path of lube down Karkat’s ass.

KARKAT: Karkat's vision was going white around the edges, when Bro started laughing, and damn if that wasn't the most off-putting sensation. It was not entirely unpleasant, sure, but it was fucking weird hearing (and more importantly, feeling) the huff of air and irregular movement of Bro's mouth that accompanied the chuckling. “You – hnhgnh.” The grunt he made as Bro let him slip from between those perfect lips so he could talk, was embarrassingly high-pitched, petulant and wanting. Taking a deep, self-composing breath, he reached down absently, cradling Bro's cheek as his thumb moved over the drool-slick corner of the other man's mouth. Collecting a small amount of the dampness, he brought his thumb up to his own mouth, popping it in up to the first knuckle. Looking contemplatively down at Bro, he slowly slid the digit back out, making a minor show of caressing it with his lips as it moved.

KARKAT: Of course, any attempt at composure and deliberation went entirely out the window as Bro executed a flawless suck-and-slick combo. That was, in fact, the phrase that Karkat's brain provided as it clunked out of gear. A pretty huge part of the section of his mind devoted to conscious thought gave up and threw its metaphorical hands in the air, passing the reins over to the bit of him that wanted. Just wanted. With a moan that was almost a sob, he rocked his hips, lamely trying to rut forwards into Bro's mouth, while simultaneously pressing back against the thrilling coolness of his fingers. “Holy mother of – hell fucking DAMN, Bro, you're...christ, you're so good, so fucking unfairly good to me, your...your mouth, dude, your fucking MOUTH, how do you – hhhhghaah!”

BRO: He smiled with his eyes at the teasing act with the thumb, eyes flicking over Karkat’s blushing cheeks as he swallowed him down again, feeling the tip of Karkat brush right back to the highest point on the roof of his mouth. He nodded, relishing the rub there, pulling back enough to bump it into the curve of his palate again and again, pressing up from below and exploring pits and grooves with his tongue, letting his hand roam and stroke over over the rest of his cock, playing with his balls. And although his eyes were slipping closed at the silky, hypnotic motion, through slitted eyes he saw, he’d swear he could see, Karkat switch into acceptance, incoherence, trust, and hunger. It was in the lack of control over his jaw, in his breath and the pitch of his voice, the tilt of his head and the flare of his nostrils. 

BRO: Comfort and desire. It seeped down into Bro and spread through him like a warm tide, down his throat and spine, making his skin tingle, his heels rub uselessly into the bedcovers, and his knees rock open and closed. Acutely aware of his own recovered erection starting to ooze and loll, neglected on his stomach; he moaned and felt it reverberate through Karkat. And aware of his wetted fingers sliding over and over that entrance, pressing, circling, burrowing in one, two knuckles deep and pulsing, up-down, up-down, in tune with the motion of his mouth.

KARKAT: Karkat gasped, moaned, and tried to stammer something coherent. It didn't work; all he managed is an incoherent jumble of consonants, a few moments of which sounded a little like 'Bro' and 'yes'. He curled forwards over Bro, keening. It was all so much, almost too much, but he by no means wanted it to stop. As Bro's fingers sank deeper between his cheeks, he choked out expletives, pleading in a desperate, almost strangled voice. "Need, need you, need more, oh, god, lovely, my lovely..."

BRO: "Fuck, fuck, me, too, Kar-babe. me, too. So fuckin' bad, " he breathed dizzily from the bottom of the hot, moist cave below curled Karkat. Undoubtedly, his fine gold hair had started to paste itself damply to his forehead, and sweat was starting to bead over his lip and under his eyes, but he was too enthralled to notice, with the push-push-push of Karkat's hips; the flushed and silky head of his dick slipping through the loose circle of his fingers, past his grasping, tugging lips, and into his mouth, where he worried back with his tongue, nursing it with the instincts and noise of a hungry child.

BRO: His hips rose and fell and circled distractedly, humping the air fitfully, heels burying into the futon, in answer to the slowly increasing in-and-out of his other fingers, the two central ones slowly but surely coaxing Karkat wider, more open, insinuating themselves deeper.

BRO: Their knuckles rubbed and caught on one another, squeezed tight enough to overlap by the involuntary resistance of Karkat's asshole. Little by little, it tired and gave. They pet the satiny interior; they burrowed and pivoted and slowly explored, until the thin webs of skin where his fingers connect to his hand rubbed back and forth over the puckered ring.

BRO: With a moan, his head dropped back and he stared up blearily, working his sore jaw a moment. "Karkat..." he whispered finally, drawing his fingers almost entirely out and carefully driving them back in, smooth and to the root. Grinding them in, he began inching himself down, right and left, holding their gaze until he slid out between Karkat's thighs, giving them a kiss in passing

BRO: Grabbing for the paper towels and wiping off his fingers, he clumsily twisted over first to his elbows, then to his knees behind the other man, eyes flicking over the untameable shag of black hair and down the long dip of his spine. The pudge on Karkat's belly had yet to travel to his back and he couldn't help but to linger appreciatively on the whorls of surprisingly well-proportioned muscle around his shoulder blades and the compact curves of his upper arms. He stretched out and touched them with his cleaned hand and murmured his approval, reaching for the box of condoms with the other. Somehow fumbling it open and spilling its contents onto the sheets.

KARKAT: Karkat could perhaps be best described, at this point, as a hot mess. He was sweating, panting, trembling. His fingers curled into Bro's hair as the blond head disappeared down between his legs. He felt impossibly, beautifully stretched, and an honest, undeniable moan fell ragged from his lips. Bro's fingers inside him felt foreign, and /fantastic/, even undercut by the dull ache of his protesting muscles. Then Bro's kissing his legs, and then he was gone, and Karkat wanted to turn around to watch him but he was pretty sure he couldn't even /move/. Instead, he squirmed slightly, leaning forwards until his hands bunch, white-knuckled, in the bedsheets. He was vaguely aware that this is propping his ass up in the air, and that made him feel a little self-conscious, but mostly he just wanted Bro to keep going, to keep - that was the sound of cardboard and plastic. The sound of a box opening, and small objects sliding over one another onto the bed. His breath caught, and his head craned around to look at Bro with hooded eyes. "I- Bro, c'mon. Get /on/ with it, asshole." Smooth. Romantic. Well done Karkat.

BRO: Shaking partway out of his single-minded daze at Karkat’s tart demand, hastily ripped open condom halfway rolled on, a slight crease formed between his eyes before it smooths. After a pause, he snorted and gave Karkat a smart smack on his proffered rear for his sass, then bent to the slapped spot. “Ah gottcha, babe,” he whispered, crouched over Karkat, giving smeary kisses left to right, teeth dragging. He panted heavy on the reddened skin, his own cheeks a high pink with the blood swarming through him, the beat of it in his ears as he lubed up and he muttered want and hunger under his breath, rhyming and distracted.

BRO: He drew up and inched his knees closer, both hands still on Karkat--one braced at his waist, the other slicking up and down his ass, gripping and kneading his tight goddamn balls, slowly curving to make a channel into which, huffing, still babbling, he cautiously fed his own dick, straight between the cheeks, until it is smoothing in and back from sac to taint, over and over, and holy fuck Ah am glad we pre-gamed, because damned if Ah couldn’t come just like this. Every ridge and hollow is so stupidly perfect and god it’s so hot, in every sense of the word, makes me burn, makes me throb, brings me so damn alive, but just let me...ungh, narrow the range, tighten the funnel, so the tip of my cock is... /Fuck/. Mother of mercy, too tight, it’s blinding, Ah’m seeing the light. Just..little by little, bit by bit pushing in, each time swinging wider, gaining more depth, slowly swallowed inside. Shh, baby, you’re good...ha. naw, so much better than that. Don’t worry, Ah gotcha, an’, ohhhh...Ah’m in. He didn’t know how much of the crescendo of words he had actually voiced, but it cut off with a long, strained groan. 

KARKAT: He was right about to comment on the pause, when woAH. The sharp crack across his cheek sent a wave of heat and a shiver through him. Not the reaction he might've expected from himself. Oh, and it was followed by kisses, by teeeeeth, and Karkat brought one hand to his mouth, sinking his own teeth into the meaty base of his thumb as he groans. "Shit, dude...you, yeah, you got me alright, holy fuck." He was already rocking his hips back and forth, his cock aching hard and bouncing slightly with the movement, desperate for more attention, saliva cooling its surface.

KARKAT: And the attention came- not to his shaft, but to his balls, and the sound he muffled against his own hand was high-pitched and desperate, hips tilting and pressing down further into Bro's talented fucking hand. And Bro was rambling, muttering, and every word he said was absolutely fucking /filthy/ and Karkat loved it. Dropping his hand from his mouth before he gnawed right through it, he tried to respond in kind...and just managed a whimper. Bro's dick rubbing up against him was too, too amazing, too /hot/, too overwhelming. "Yesyesyes, narrow the - what? - theeeoohhhhfuck, dude, DUDE, it's...you're, I, I can't, I don't, ohmyfuckYES! Oh, christ, hurts, it hurts, Bro...don'tyoudarestop. Don't. You dare. I just. I can't...needyou I need you, so FULL, I - ah!" He tried his best to relax without moving a muscle. He couldn't imagine moving forward, away from Bro. He was not sure he could handle pushing back, against him. It had been a ridiculously long time since Karkat Vantas got fucked, and his body wasn't at all used to it.

BRO: He breathed, he swayed, the room a kaleidoscope. Finally, his hips began the rhythm of pulling out and sliding back in and he slowly looked down. It was magic, so riveting, it was better than cats; he watched himself splitting Karkat open again and again, slack-jawed. The going was shaky at first, for both of them, but as the strokes began to even out, he got a firmer hold on either side of Karkat and drew him back to meet each one, a steady slap of skin on skin, each one with its own grunt and hissed intake of air, filling the room with the sound of their sex.

BRO: Bro couldn’t imagine a sight he’d rather see than Karkat’s beautiful back--damp and flushed, shoulders struggling, ribs expanding and collapsing with every fought-for breath. Running a splayed hand up the center of it to a hold on Karkat’s neck, he leaned into it and pinned Karkat down to the pillow, latching his fingers in the thick black mess of hair, marveling at how his little beau fit beneath him like a matching puzzle piece. He worshiped that perfection with his mouth, kissing and biting, leaving marks on his flesh. He never missed a single glorious, drilling beat of his hips into Karkat, though: real sweat-flinging, ball-smacking, teeth-jarring fucking.

KARKAT: As Bro started moving, Karkat completely failed to hold back a sob. It hurt, oh, it hurt, and it was absolutely amazing. He felt like he was going to break in two, like he was going to explode, and his breath came in rattling gasps and desperate grunts. Bro's weight was on him as he moved, hand holding him down, and that was good, that was, oh, that was fanTAStic. Karkat's knees were spread as wide as they'd go without losing the ability to support is weight. Sweat-sticky and shuddering, he squirmed underneath Bro, growled and gasped "Yes"s and "More"s and "Fuck"s muffled against the pillow. His cock throbbed, and one shaky hand found itself pushed down between his legs. His palm rubbed over himself for all of a couple of blissful seconds before reaching further, blunt nails scrabbling at Bro's inner thigh before his fingers found balls, gripping and pressing as carefully as he could manage, pushing them up against Bro's body, against where his shaft disappeared behind them, following the movement of the other man's thrusts. Even after round one, Karkat was already feeling unsteady, an inkling of pre-cum eking out from his bouncing dick, and he didn't want to finish before Bro did. God, but the prospect of that seemed increasingly unlikely, especially when - "FUCK! Ohhh, fuuuhuhuck..." - Bro's relentlessly pounding cock struck metaphorical gold.

BRO: He was caught in a rainbow, colors bursting and blinging all around, and Karkat was the pot of gold at the end. /There/ and /there/ and /there/ he found that gold over and over; everything focused on where they joined, on driving in faster, harder, on hitting that gold and making Karkat gasp out the most fan-freaking-tasic sounds he had ever heard; cooing and snarling his encouragement, riding Karkat with smooth, powerful undulations of his hips for all he is worth.

BRO: He added to the rising tempest of noise when Karkat gripped his sac, half-snarl, half-whimper, haltingly curling over him, braced on one elbow by Karkat’s head, plastering them chest to back, hips pulsing at the deepest point, circling, working his balls in Karkat’s hand. His cheek came to rest on the other’s neck, his name on every heavy breath, his whole weight gradually replacing the hand pinning him. Instead, it traveled over Karkat, cups over the round surface of his skull, down his face, fingers dipping in between his teeth, trapping his tongue and stretching his lips. It dragged down his shoulder and ribs and over his belly, digging into the cush there. It scratched into the curly dark hair, massaged around the base of the bobbing cock, and finally finally finally wrapped around it and pumped.

BRO: His eyes rolled and fluttered: his other senses were too overwhelmed to process much as they wander aimlessly and more or less sightlessly, over the darkened room. The familiar old posters and puppets, the scattered weapons and caps. The game systems, tangles of cords, his computers and music. And Dave. Through the half open door, shrouded in shadow, watching. The nostrils of both brothers flared in recognition of each other’s awareness of the other. Bro made no other change than to stare the boy down, still enveloping Karkat, still boring in tight at the hilt. Challenge extended, he dismissed Dave with a flick of his chin and joined Karkat behind closed eyes; pressed his parted lips to the neck under him and whispered for Karkat to come.

KARKAT: Karkat gasped, begged for he can't quite say what, whined his need against the futon. His shoulders were as tense as he could ever remember them being, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to burst out of a jack-in-the-box. The way Bro's body curled around him feels perfect, so perfect, almost even more so than the movement inside him, so deep and so full that he could nearly cry. In the very best of ways, of course.

KARKAT: The only words he could manage were stilted approximations, "Br-hahh, ohgod" and "Ple- oh, pleahhhnhhfu-huck" and vowel sounds that were barely anywhere near English. There's not much of a difference in comprehensibility as fingers push into his mouth; even when he sucked at them eagerly, lapping at them with his tongue, grunting in frustration as they're removed. The complaint didn't stand for long, though, breaking into needy gasps as that glorious hand made its way down to his cock. Karkat bucked his hips, adoring Bro's fingers around him, adoring the friction inside him as his hips jerked, adoring the way Bro could take him apart with hands and tongue and cock. Heat rushed through him, dripped from his parted lips in ecstatic epithets, throbbed through his dick, rock hard and drooling in Bro's hand.

KARKAT: And oh, oh, "Oh-!", he was gone. Damn Bro. Damn him and his irresistible instruction, damn him for his power held over the younger man. With that simple cry, all his ranting and begging and swearing compressed into one expressive release of an "Oh-!", Karkat lost it. His entire body curled in on itself, wrapped up in and wrapped around Bro as he spilled in hot, wonderful spurts of delirium. He shook, and if he hadn't already been shoved down against the futon he'd have collapsed there. A moment's breathless silence, teeth gritted and body spasming, then he drew a shuddering breath, releasing it in a steady whispered "Broyesbroyesbro...", still blissed out of his mind, still trembling, his orgasm altogether refusing to subside as swiftly as usual.

BRO: Good god, it was hot, the heat was spilling out and clenching down as he rode Karkat through his peak, cursing and panting, and /god/ he was so close behind, but just not quite there. So he dug messy, bruising fingers in on both hips and pounded short and hard--used Karkat desperately, yanking and pushing his body into his thrusts, growling and whining with need, shoulders and back like twisted iron, jaw clenched and the cords in his neck taut under a bright pink flush that spreads to his stomach. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK, oh, jesus fuck, baby, Ah can’t ...uunnnghgh...!” With a heavy slam of his hips, head rolling back in ecstasy, he burrowed as deep as he could go and released. 

Wave after wave rippling, crashing through him; an irresistible deluge that swept away everything else. He rocked helplessly, tossed by its currents, barely aware of sliding out of, off of Karkat and rolling to his back at his side, gasping for breath like a drowning man saved. Moaning with the pure pleasure of surviving, coming out the other side: shivering, skin alive with tingles at every point, fingers twitching. “..Karkat…”

KARKAT: Holy hell, Bro wasn't letting up, Karkat was aching and full and honestly not sure how much more of the rough treatment he could-- and there it was. As Bro impaled him one last time, Karkat /howled/, face pressed down against the pillow, the sound more...overwhelmed, than anything else. Everything was just too much, he was spent and used and full, his hands driven down into the sheets and balled into tight, white-knuckled fists. As Bro pulled out of him, he whimpered, retaining just enough presence of mind to avoid collapsing into the smear of his own jizz as he followed Bro's movement, shuffling over to flop face-first onto his lover's chest. His cheek was smushed against one sweaty pectoral, and he couldn't bring himself to do much more than lay there and pant.

BRO: “...fuckety hell.” he finally squeezed out, the arm underneath Karkat laxly flopping over his shoulders and clumsily patted at him. Just breathing together, lolling, trembling with aftershocks. Eventually, he unwrapped himself long enough to strip the condom off, tie it in a knot, and toss it off the edge of the bed wrapped in a paper towel “Ah’m...Ah’m exhausted, babe. Jesus Christ. Wow,” he muttered as he dropped back and took Karkat into his arms again, tucking him in under his chin. And even as his breathing settled his lips curled into an unconscious grin--one that could almost be called smug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Bro and Karkat's first date, thank you reading through to the end! Again, props to my lovely Karkat, Ablubluh, you were amazing to work with, as always.


End file.
